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This diary entry is written by ‹stickyvaporeon›. ( View all entries )
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Glass BottlesCategory: Stories
Thursday, 16 October 2014
10:48:01 PM (GMT)
For years he saved glass bottles. They were in boxes under his bed, in bags in his
closet, in the trunk of his car. He knew some day he would find their purpose. They
would be the material for some extravagant artistic endeavor, or they would be
repurposed in some way he could only guess at, but undoubtedly his contribution would
be heroic. He never expected that one day, his entire world would be brutally
incinerated before his eyes, that everything he worked for would prove to be only as
sturdy as a sandcastle, that everything he knew, trusted and loved would turn to look
at him with transformed glares of evil intent. He never knew that one day he would be
faced, all of a sudden, with the realization of just how unfair life really is. 
He never knew that one day, he would really need something to smash.

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