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Posted on April 18, 2003 in Book of Days Prose Arcana

Note: This is third in a series based on exercises from A Writer’s Book of Days.

Today’s Topic: Just beyond the edge of the woods.

A white marble-monument, a pyramid with a gigantic bead perched on it, ten feet past the last twisted stand of manzanita. No marks, no insignia, no inscriptions to tell you who or what or why it stands in that spot. Circle around this place in my imagination, wet your shoes on the grass, and enjoy the mystery of the ball teetering upon the point.

I don’t suggest that it has any meaning. I don’t suggest that it holds an answer. It doesn’t, in fact, exist. It’s only there when you emerge from the lacerating tangle of a rust-dark wood. It’s cryptic and unanswering. A bit like God when you encase the idea in a statue and say your prayers to it.

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Tomorrow’s topic: Write about a time you did something you didn’t want to do.