A Broken Piece of Glass
A young woman saw a broken piece of glass on the ground in the dirt. She blew off the dirt and put it in her pocket. When she got home, she felt its jagged edges and placed it on her counter.
A week later her girlfriend came over and saw the broken piece of glass in between loose papers on the counter and asked, “What’s this?”
The young woman replied, “A broken piece of glass I found. You can have it if you want.”
Her girlfriend said, “It’s lovely.”
“You think so?”
“I cut myself on it.”
“Maybe it’s a diamond.”
“Maybe it is. Why don’t you find out, and if it is, you can sell it and give me half.”
“Fair enough.” And she placed the piece of glass in her purse for safekeeping.
The next week, she took the piece of glass to her jeweler, a woman she’d used many times for appraisals and cleanings. The jeweler carefully felt the weight of the glass in her palm, then took out her tools to determine it’s composition and identity.
After looking at it through a couple instruments, she said, “What you have here is a lovely piece of broken glass.”
“Oh well, a girl can hope.”
The jeweler handed it back to her. But the girlfriend said, “No, that’s okay. You can toss it.”
“It’s still a lovely piece of glass.”
“That’s okay. I have enough things to carry. But thank you for answering my question.”
The jeweler nodded and they visited for awhile, talking about several other things.
After she left, the jeweler tooled the broken piece of glass into a cut that accented its existing features. She lifted the glass up into the light so a broad spectrum of colors appeared on the walls. She surrounded the glass in gold and attached it to a necklace she wore beneath her clothes.
In times of doubt or needed inspiration, she took out her broken glass pendant. She looked through it, to see the world anew, with more facets and colors than would normally be seen. Then she would slip it back away, against her skin, close to her heart again.
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