Diamond Field

One day, many years ago, when I was a young man, I stood hunched over, immobilized, facing the earth, knowing that beneath my feet lay a vast field of my diamonds. But I was unable to mine them, They were my gems, the residue of my tears, my human carbon fallen to the earth and pressured under the ages of my life; enough riches to end my pain, fulfill my deepest wants and desires.

They glowed under a thin covering of ephemeral dust. I knew that all I had to do to was reach down, blow away the dust covering them, and scoop the earned riches of my own pain into my arms. 'Bend! Bend!' I shouted. But no matter how strongly my hands, my long pointed fingers, aimed toward the earth, I could not bend. 'Believe, believe' I shouted fuller, the shriek echoing in the cavern of my mind and heart. 'They are your riches. Bend!'

Many years later I was finally able to bend down and scooped up my treasure. The market price of diamonds had gone down in the interim; at least the diamonds from my field. But they are still valuable. I wear them; proudly, around my neck, across my chest, on all ten fingers and ten toes, their allure enhanced, strangely enough, by my lack of early mining. I glow to myself, even in the darkest night.