FRAGILE THING

We built it from pieces of jigsaw puzzles, egg shells, rubber bands and the bones of long dead ancient things.  It became everything to us, the driving force for all we did; our pathway to God.  We soon learned how fragile it was and maintained it; adding new parts and jamming them together if they didn’t fit with extra strength glue.   Our faces were close against it as we worked ceaselessly.

The outsiders came and watched from a distance, talking among themselves.  We ignored them, they were not appreciators of what we had made and they could never understand it.  One day we heard laughter.  We turned from our work and saw a caricature of what we had made.  Stark light showed elastic bands at breaking point, cracking eggshells, jigsaw pieces that didn’t really make sense, clumps of smelly glue and the brittleness of the ancient bones.  We acted immediately, turning our backs to our creation and our faces to theirs, we drew our swords.

The destruction of the outsiders was necessary; we must control how our creation is seen.  Its beauty is best displayed in the half light or else the glue that holds it will melt away.  It must only be spoken of in the most reverent whispers for laughter will smash the shells and cast those brittle bones asunder.