This follows last week’s blog on Trials. I discovered so much about rock tumbling… My imagination took over. The stones were given voices and one grumbled.
Please enjoy my whimsy!
“I have to go back in the tumbler again,” complained little stone.
“We all do,” sympathized the lumpy old stone.
We have to be fined down with all the grades of grit.
“But I have to go back in with the coarse grit! The first one again,” grumbled the small stone.
He glowered at the lumpy stone and protested,
“It’s not fair.”
The lumpy old stone, sighed but did not answer.
Hey! I am talking to you. I said, I have to go in again with the coarse grit.”
The lumpy old stone gazed sadly at the smaller stone.
“And you will keep being put back in for the first stage until that big chip is smoothed out.”
“Do we all have to go back with coarse grit?”
“What the gemologist does with each of his stones is nothing to do with another. We have to be tumbled and smoothed until he is pleased with the result.”
“That doesn’t seem fair!” grumbled the little stone. “What about that one?” he asked, pointing to a larger stone who was beginning to show a pattern on the surface.
Overhearing, the half-polished stone asked, “What’s it to you?”
“You bumped against me more than the others,” grumbled little stone.
“Maybe you need more bumping,” replied the larger stone.
Some of the other stones decided to join in the grumbling.
“It doesn’t matter how much you grumble, all of us will be put in the tumbler until we are the the way the gemologist wants us to be,” the lumpy stone intervened.
“It looks like you will need a lot of tumbling,” a half-done stone said snidely.
A few of the others snickered.
“I am too big and too hard to be put in with you smaller stones.
I have to wait until there are enough my size and type.”
“Oh, you think you are better than the rest of us, do you?” the little stone accused.
“No, not better. But you are different kinds of stones. If the gemologist put me in the tumbler with you, I would damage you.
I have to wait till the gemologist decides where I fit.”
“But we are not ALL small.”
“No, there needs to be different sizes so that we all bump each other, not tumble in a group.”
“So why can you not be tumbled with us.”
“As I said, I am much too large and hard. I would damage you. The gemologist knows what will suit the purpose.”
“Well, I don’t think it is fair,” little stone protested loudly. “Why should we have to do what the gemologist wants? I’ve had enough!”
“The gemologist knows what he wants each stone to look like. There is a place for all of us. We have been chosen for that purpose.”
“Little stone, you look like you might be a diamond, which is something highly prized by the gemologist.”
The door opened and the sound of feet crossing the floor echoed in the room.
The lumpy old stone looked at the little stone wondering if it would try to roll off the table.
With an abashed glance at the lumpy old stone, little stone rolled back to join the few other stones who were to go back into the tumbler with the coarse grit.