A Person

"What shape am I?"


"What am I shaped like?"

"A person?"

she raises her eyebrows and hands me a page, torn from a magazine

I look the page over

"When you wake up tomorrow, which would you rather be?

A trinket only good for telling the time?

A trophy of the short-lived or almost dead?

A mere container for what everyone really desires?

Or a standard, a measure by which everything is compared?"

she sighed

"A person! You don't get it!

I guess I'll ask someone who sees more clearly than you."

The End

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