He looked at the clutter around him. Neglected, half-finished dreams littered the desk, table, and sections of the floor. At one point each project had held so much life and promise, but now they were on life support, or worse yet zombified corpses. He wondered what was the best approach going forward. Maybe he should just put everything away and pull out pieces when he was ready to resurrect them, but that would mean confronting his failures, and he wasn’t emotionally prepared to do that just yet. Besides, he had a brand new idea, and he knew it would work.
Can’t get a seat at the table?
Relegated to looking on, waiting for something to hit the floor?
Under foot and unnoticed?
Maybe this year is when you stand up and demand a seat.
Become a partner with those who should be your peers.
So stop settling for mere…
Down to my last chance, I offer a prayer to the lukewarm plastic cubes
I then release them to bound across the table, watching them unleash their chaos
Cartwheeling and spinning among all the possibilities and futures
Eventually coming to rest as tombstones on my luck’s grave
Earth, air, fire, water
Life was simpler in the past
Everything was created with those four basic substances
Making up everyone’s reality
Except people knew there was something more
Now we have a periodic table filled with of over one hundred building blocks
That is how life goes, Mr. Watson. Starts off simple then becomes complex.
But he didn’t have the money to pay
It made him feel really bad, but he had been so hungry
Leaving the slip on the table with an “I’m sorry” note
Larry couldn’t really enjoy his first meal in three days as he ran away
Reaching for the dice one more time
Isaac gave them a toss onto the table
So much rested on the outcome of this one throw
Knowing that the answer would hurt either way
Count me as one of the choir nerds
Looking on with envy at the cool kids over there
It kind of wants to make me gag
Questioning why it couldn’t be me
Until some orchestra kid tries to sit at our table
Even us choir nerds have standards
Pushing away from the table, Ethan looked at his shirt
At the elbow there was a large hole worn into the fabric
That hole was the result of working all these years wearing that shirt
Could he fix that hole, sure, but that would mask his contribution
He would do that the day he retired, else they could bury him with that hole
Bill looked around the small study room. He closed his quantum physics book and grimaced. That grimace quickly flipped into a bemused grin as he looked at Cherie. “This stuff hurts my head.”
Cherie matched his bemused smile with one of her own. “It’s supposed to. It’s how everything in the universe works.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Bill said pointing at the book.
“Okay Einstein, what do you think is happening?”
“What happens if this is all one big simulation or even a dream?”
“A dream?” She knocked on the table. “Seems a pretty solid dream.”
“No really, pretend I am the only being in the universe.”
Cherie sat back and crossed her arms. “Then what am I, chopped liver?”
“You would be a figment of my imagination.”
“With all my personal problems you have one fucked up imagination.”
“I never said I wasn’t a sicko,” Bill said. “I would need everything to keep me as sane as possible though. Otherwise, I would be a real whack job.”
“I think your dream isn’t working too well if that’s the case.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m here for you. Or maybe not since I don’t exist.”
“Hey, I said it was just a theory.” He put his book in his backpack. “Till the next time I see you.”
Cherie shook her head. “I hope so, otherwise I wouldn’t exist.”
Bill laughed to himself as he left the room and closed the door. He walked down the hallway daydreaming about his hypothesis.
Behind the door there was nothing.
Loving games of chance, Tracy rolled the dice
Under her breath she uttered a prayer
Cascading down the table, tumbling over and over
Kismet wasn’t moved by her offering