An empty glass . . .


Trillions of silicon atoms vibrate together, held by tiny, powerful bonds with one another within the walls of an empty glass. Each particle, one piece, forming an elaborate, crystalline structure. Many individuals within a semblance of a hive mind creating a single, unique specimen. Such harmony and fragile balance . . . destroyed in milliseconds.

The small child pays no heed as he tears raucously through the house, leaving a trail of debris behind his racing feet. His mother’s glassware has found a different form, as the shards of what was once a thing of purpose and beauty, become a treacherous obstacle course in the dining room.

Roxanne hears the sound of the glass, sharp as the newly formed shards. She catches the culprit and confines him to his bedroom. Sighing, she scoops up the remains of her beautiful glass. Suddenly, the clear, smooth surface turns slippery and red. A jagged cut opens up in the palm of her hand as she tosses it into the trash.

Warm and painful, the blood seeps through the wound and drips onto the floor. Roxanne places her injured hand in the sink and turns on the cold water while squeezing the wrist to slow the loss of liquid life from her body. It stops after a while to a gradual drip as her able hand grabs some bandages. The blood falls into the now still water, creating blooming, red roses in the sink. In a brief motion, the wound is covered and the bleeding stops for good.

The rest of the cleaning went without fuss and now the little captor is sounding his protest. Seeing as there was no more harm done and with some extra fixing, no harm left to be done, she releases the child after a quick, stern warning. He crows with delight at his regained freedom and rushes out the door to the yard. Despite the universe’s tendency towards chaos, order is again restored.