[stylist] the prompt, challenge accepted

[Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter]

Eve,

Interesting. I can see this becoming something more; like expanding it and seeing the stone through all its lives in more detail. Maybe pushing the personification of the stone even more, and interweaving the stone's story with the narrator's story, whether this is you or not. But I like how this starts big and ends up small with the stone in the kitchen.

Bridgit

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of EvaMarie Sanchez via stylist
Sent: Sunday, August 02, 2015 7:35 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Cc: EvaMarie Sanchez <3rdeyeonly at gmail.com>
Subject: [stylist] the prompt, challenge accepted

Alright I did it. This is in response to Jackies prompt. I have met the challenge in my way and hope you enjoy it. It was fun to write.


The Stone

The stone was found in the dirt. Without consideration to Geology, “Where do you come from?” I ask. The stone does not answer. I know there are secrets worth learning, but they will go on unlearned. The stone has existed through time and has seen and done much. Okay, the stone has not done much, but it has been a part of much.

                Long ago, a dinosaur stepped on the stone. At that time, it was still part of a greater rock. The wear of the elements throughout the ions, have caused more change than we could imagine. Its essence though, is still the same. As it was broken from its Mother during the movement of tectonic plates and then became migratory. It was swallowed by a great bird to assist with digestion. Rough and pock marked, it returned to the air to experience freezing and heat waves.

As the geography changed, it traveled. As it lived in water, it became smooth.  As the water receded, the stone mingled with other forgotten stones that littered the land. One of the first tools, it was used by a member of the Homo erectus to break the bones of his prey.

A thousand years ago, a hooved animal, running on the open plane, bruised its hoof when the stone was stepped on. Five hundred years ago a child picked up the stone and tossed it in a river. It splashed. In the nineteenth century, a cowboy’s horse threw a shoe because of the stone. And about fifty years ago, it was caught by a tire and cracked the windshield of the following car.

The stone has seen a lot and has many years, many generations to look forward to. Where ever this stone has been, where ever this stone will be, I know where it is right now. The stone was found in the dirt. It was then washed off and now sits, soaking up the morning sun and the first glow of the moon through the eastern window of my breakfast nook. The stone sits with honor on my table with all that it has been and all that it will be.

I share my morning tea with the energy of the stone. And I am honored to come from the same Mother.
Eve
 President, National Federation of the Blind Northern Arizona President, National Federation of the Blind Writers' Division Committee Chair, Arizona Association of Guide Dog Users Affiliate Member, National Federation of the Blind Legislative Committee Affiliate Member, National Federation of the Blind Membership Committee Member, Slate & Style Editing Team

"You do not need to have vision to see the stars."
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