Prompt: I lost a world the other day. (E. Dickinson)
I lost a world the other day.
The last time I saw it, it was sitting on my desk --- just beside the big blue dictionary, on top of the bills I have to pay by Friday. I wonder if it rolled beneath the easy chair, or if the cat batted it into her favorite hiding spot beneath the bookshelf. It’s not like a clear glass globe was especially important; I’m sure I could find another one just like it at the dollar store. But I feel like it’s as sign, an omen, a reminder of how very little I have ‘together’.
Juggling laundry and friends, words and deadlines, money and the television shows that are filling up my DVR, I wonder whether I’ll ever catch up with myself. I don’t really think I’d be surprised to come out of the kitchen carrying out the trash and meet myself stumbling in the door under a load of library books. It’s not that hard, this world losing. It’s all to easy, in fact.
I wonder if the problem is in the shape. Spheres are slippery; they don’t really lend themselves well to being contained in a palm or on a cluttered desk. I vote that a cube shaped world would suit my purposes so much better. People would just have to avoid the edges and corners. I wonder whom you’d petition to make that suggestion for change.
In the meantime, I guess I’ll spend some time sweeping the corners and searching under the furniture. That globe paperweight has to be around here somewhere.