Such a small thing. Such an insignificant detail we forgot. Just that
tiny breath of air in between. We were all waiting for it but we didn’t
Then it all came crashing.
Two giants spheres in the sky, two astronomical planes of existence
clatter and gush their innards everywhere in a spark of something so
tiny and so little that we see each other crossing paths. We see the
past creak up, we see the foundation of our lives turn into something it
once was, a place of harrowing guts and terror.
Peace is long gone here, the treacherous paths, the tiny little walkways we made for ourselves, the balancing act we kept so tightly and so constantly—we let it go.
And then it all came crashing.
What smashed us wasn’t the world’s end or a catastrophe. It was the
tiniest of messages, a little blip in our consciousness, a startling
realization that a dot over there was connected to a dot over here;
spraying a chaotic line throughout the entirety of our lives, drawing
haunting parallels we did not foresee, nor fully understand the
We stepped by, tip-toeing through, hoping that life doesn’t catch up with us, dancing as elegantly as mice on a battlefield, towering over nothing, claiming nothing.
And yet it all comes crashing.
What an end we have. What a joyous little celebration we endure while
it lasts. What a close call. Why, oh why, do we breathe? Because
sometimes, we experience moments when our worlds collide. Because
sometimes we see the small uninteresting things become meaningful,
become huge. Because sometimes the world warrants an extra look.
Because sometimes the world comes crashing.
Oh man, this was a moment piece (a piece I wrote because of a certain moment) and I think you can tell that. I'm not gonna tell what the moment was, but you can probably guess what it entailed.
I like the juxtaposition of the small and the huge in this one. It works pretty well, I think. I'm not super happy with the final paragraph, necessarily--it feels a little too obvious, perhaps.