《Just a Rock》Chapter 28: Anchor
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What now? Nothing but the rock, of course. There was a bit too much focus on the artist/sculptor in the past few chapters. We can’t forget that this story is about the rock. No matter how far the story may steer away from the rock, it is the anchor. If this story was a boat, then the rock would be weight keeping it in the same general area, not matter how much the waves and weather tried to sweep it away.
The rock sat peacefully on the ground. Going nowhere. Nothing happened. The wind gently caressed it. The pebbles and dirt supported it from below. Occasionally, a tiny bit of water would splash onto the rock from the river. Before it could build up enough to make a wet spot, it would evaporate from the sun bearing down on it. A few red spots could be seen on the rock, remnants of the paint spilled by the artist/sculptor and something else...
Blood! Not really. It’s more of the rock’s composition granting it a few reddish impurities. A bit of alkali and/or iron in it. The rock wasn’t purely one element; it was a mutt. Except, being a mutt isn’t so bad for rocks. Even diamond, a rock often deemed valuable due to marketing schemes, could be made several times more valuable if it has an impurity that changes its color. The rock’s composition gave it a dull gray color with an occasional red tinted spot. However, it was, by no means, valuable.
One couldn’t judge the rock by just its mineral value. Well, one could, but shouldn’t. The rock is what this story is about. If you undervalue it due to its composition, it’ll get depressed and get plastic surgery. At that point, could we even call it a rock? The story would be ruined for everyone.
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Zone has no owner, it has its rules It shows no mercy, to both wise and fools. It has no God, it gives no hope It gives to kind, last rites and rope. It’s a Hell on Earth where demons thrive But people kill, to get inside. People kill, to leave this place People die, for a chance to stay. For those, outside, they dream of horrors We live inside, horrific borders. We live, we thrive, just like those demons. Here, our lives, they have a meaning. Zone has no God, it has no Devil But it has us and its enough We are in Hell or maybe Heaven Gates are here, in front of us. The Zone has many rules and none of them would make much sense to you, living on the Outside. For example here, you would never hear, “I’m sorry for your loss”. Only silence would be the answer. The most empathetic action you would receive, is an open flask and a nod. People here don’t expect to live long and happy lives and even the most optimistic person at most, would hope to die inside of a blender. It's the most painless and quickest way to die in The Zone, and the cleanest. Your body would be torn apart in a second by countless gravitational pulls, all centered on you, leaving nothing but a red circle outside of its perimeter.
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