4
Rory asked me yesterday why the sky was blue and not green like the grass, and I told him with all earnest contemplation in my voice that if the sky was green, say, like the grass in a graceful spring, you wouldn’t know where to stop mowing.
It seemed to satisfy.
12
Rory asked me yesterday how the dragonfly was able to fly so fast with such a tiny perception of depth and not crash into, say, a tree or the occasional large rock before it could stop, and I told him with only barely a smile that it was just government-sanctioned radar.
It seemed to satisfy.
20
Rory asked me yesterday why it was that, say, it had to be him in the ground with this tastefully-engraved marble marker pushing down on his skull, and I told him with fresh tulips in hand and tears behind closed lids as I knelt that he’d always been the lucky one.
It never seems to satisfy.
Grey Sparrow Journal 