I keep expecting things to shatter. I pick up my French press, the dishwater drips, suds slip down its sides. I think: the noise this thing will make if I drop it… I can almost feel the shards bounce around my toes, crystal and sharp, winking in the light. I can hear the smash, the chatter of pieces against the tile, the intake of breath.
These things break so easily.
Seeking Prose 
Yep. As of this writing, I’m drinking my coffee, but the little black piece of plastic that holds the plunger together won’t do its job correctly so I have to sift out random, floating grains of ground. Tragic.
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Oh no!! That is tragic. I love my French press. I would have to go straight to the store. 😄
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Was reading about a king (Charles VI?) that used to sit still for days. He believed he was made of glass and would shatter if he moved. There are moments that feel like that.
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I think I remember hearing about that king, too. Although, I’m not sure which one he was either. We all do feel breakable sometimes.
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I love the way that you put words together. It’s like a path that leads to other thoughts ☺
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Thank you for the compliments. I’m glad you’re enjoying my posts 😊
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Funny because I’ve literally been thinking the same thing about my French press lately. The glass is so thin. … a lovely little meditation you’ve penned.
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Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wrote this after I had my first car accident (not serious, thankfully). I kept having these flashes of things breaking abruptly because of how fast the accident had happened.
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