In response to the a to z challenge
My life is like a sentence which you forgot halfway through. It’s incomplete, but the tired incomplete, the kind where you don’t want to ask anymore questions, because the answer will not be something you’ll want to hear.
A net with holes wider than what I’m trying to hold. I keep scooping, but it all falls down again.
I disappear from your mind, an entity tied together by what I can give you. A plastic cup, only important for what I can hold.
I’m a net, precious only in as much as I can gather.
Other times, I am nothing at all.
What happens to me, the times when you’re not here? Does it matter? I’m the partial existence, a folded bed, only there when you need me.
I’m the net, only as useful as the things I catch.
I’m the net, everything passes through me, or are left dumped in the sand, sold at rupees five a piece.