Sunday, August 10, 2008


I broke three glasses at work yesterday. The final one shattered in my hand like a cherry bomb, I stood holding the shape of what was a glass, all tiny peices of danger now perfect in my palm. The glass rained over my eyes, my clothes, the server shelf where we keep the silverware and coffeecups. Everything had to be taken apart and cleaned. Only one shard, one cubic fortress of solitude chunk did not fall from my hand when I overturned it. I pulled it from the fleshy part between my thumb and my pointer finger, everyone winced and turned away. And then there was blood and my boss bathing my hand like a skinny Mary Magdelene on Jesus. But I am not Jesus. I worked my miserable shift. The glass looked like diamonds in my eyelashes. It was beautiful.

5 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

And so is your writing and so are you.
Beautiful, that is.

Miss Maybelle said...

Mama, why were you up so early? And thank you.

Ms. Moon said...

I wasn't up that early. Your time thing must not be set correctly. Believe me- I was still asleep at 5:18 a.m.

downtown guy said...

Your work is full of crazy antimiracles right now.

Miss Maybelle said...

My work is full of crazy right now. Hopefully, all that will change very soon.