The Blue Diamond

     The diamond emitted its own energy—projecting the color of the

caribbean sea onto the otherwise white linoleum floor.

     “It’s spectacular, Derrick.” The awe of the moment stole the

emphasis and emotion from my words. I stated them blankly,

distracted by the immense beauty of the intricately cut and

otherworldly size of the diamond.


     I was ashamed. Such a magnificent treasure sat in the kitchen

of my trailer home like royalty would in a horse barn.


      I’d never tell Derrick how dissatisfied I was with my own life.

The instant I looked away from the diamond I saw the same rat

grey cabinets and the same mouse brown counter. Dirty dishes

were piled high. One mocking plate stuck out, still crusted with

ketchup from my two-hot-dog-dinner four nights ago. The rusty red

ugliness smeared the plate and clashed against the emanating

blue beauty.


     I lost control.


     “John?” Derrick noticed my silent tears fall. My self hatred had

tipped over -- trickling down my cheek in the faint glow.

The End

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