Friday, 18 March 2011
An Early Experience
By William Weatherstone of The Diesel Gypsy
In 1940, two young friends, five years old, were lying on the grass after dark and looking up at the stars. The night was totally black but flooded with flickering diamonds.
As we lay there, a thought came to my friend and he spoke up saying that we must be a part of a giant’s brain and each star is a separate part also. When the giant dies, do we die too?
My friend spoke that to me that night in Sarnia, Ontario Canada, 1940. Any thoughts on his comment?
[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Instructions for submitting are here.]