March 19, 2009

That Game

We've all played it. Toss a coin, make a wish, pick a card. Leaving all things to chance we spin the globe, faster and faster. We watch it spin, dizzy from the swirl of colors. Our bangs puff off our foreheads from the fake earth breeze. We close our eyes to let destiny work all by itself. And then, thud. One tiny index finger stops the world. We look closer, where did our finger land us? Where will we go next? What random part of the world have we just touched? What random part of the world will touch us next?

Children play the game and never tire of it. Grown-ups don't grow out of it. Leave a bunch of adults in a room with a globe and eventually, they too will start playing it. For even with all of their stories about all of those places, the surface of the globe is an infinite ouija board of possibility.

I'm playing it right now. And you won't believe where I've just landed . . .

2 comments:

ummmmheyyyy.wordpress.com said...

If you substituted "globe" for a dirty word, that would be the best game of Madlibs ever.

This is even pretty dirty itself: "What random part of the world will touch us next?

*Immediately followed by*

Children play the game and never tire of it. Grown-ups don't grow out of it."

hahaha thanks for the laugh.

Debra said...

I know, I know!