June 12, 2019

colored balls

I'm not sure how to write about not getting the job I wanted and was all but assured I would get. 

The thoughts and feelings are jostled and milled like the colored plastic balls in the kid-filled pit at a McDonald's PlayPlace.  The red ones are fiery rage that would raze all the land.  The yellow ones are meekness and sorrow for my inferiority.  The green ones are acceptance and irrational hope for change in the future.  The blue ones are relief that the waiting is, at least, over.

The white ones are the surreal suspension, the stunned disbelief.

The black ones scare me.


  1. Forget balls; throw rocks! Lots and lots of rocks! Sorry about the job. I know you really wanted this! *Big hugs* Mona