When I was about ten years old, I went to school one day in the depths of winter and found myself, for reasons I don’t recall, alone in the playground. I picked up a handful of snow, rolled it into a snowball, and threw it over my shoulder. The purpose was to create a mystery. I didn’t know where the snowball had fallen, and neither did anybody else.
Creating mysteries has always appealed to me, and now I’m going to create another one. Except this isn’t quite as mysterious as the fate of the snowball. One of the 6 billion people in the world will know the answer.
Life is forever connected with a field of barley.
And now, since less than five minutes remain to 3 am, I’m going to bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment