Ephemeral* Cake

Some of the wonderful words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry from The Little Prince.

1. All grown-ups were children first. (But few remember it).

2. If I were to command a general to turn into a seagull, and the general does not obey, it would not be the general's fault. It would be mine.

3. It is much harder to judge yourself than to judge others. You are only truly wise if you succeed in judging yourself.

4. Language is the source of misunderstandings.

5. One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eye.

6. We must endure the presence of two or three caterpillars if we wish to become acquainted with the butterflies.

7. No one is ever satisfied where he is.

8. The meaning of things lies not in the things themselves, but in our attitude towards them.

9. Love does not cause suffering: what causes it is the sense of ownership, which is love's opposite.

10. If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people together to collect wood or assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.

11. The time for action is now. It's never too late to do something.

12. "How could drops of water know themselves to be a river? Yet the river flows on."

*Ephemeral: that which is in danger of speedy disappearance

the last word

After a four month hiatus, I woke up this morning knowing that I wanted to write. Not knowing what I wanted to write about. With thoughts of secrets overlapping those of cake and candy to time travel and photographs, it all looks blurry.

Is knowing what you want enough? Is waking up in the morning to the knowledge of what will make you happy get you any closer?

This morning I woke up knowing that I wanted to write.

You did write. Several words. Unconnected yet well-thought out. Letter after letter, building on what is already there, something begins to take shape. Not necessarily coherent but uniquely created through a dialogue...of sorts. Composed of small yellow tiles against a gridded canvas. A senseless tirade of words connected by nothing more than a mere letter or a regular plural.

TACT. COULD. DATE. PEEL. PEELS. SANE. NEVER. REACT. SHEEP.

You play the cards you're dealt. You play the letters you draw. You bluff and hide your cards. You place and arrange your tiles. Bluffing is futile--nothing remains hidden for long. A hidden Z reveals a resize while a guarded Q unveils a quote. LOVE. HAPPY. JOY. Triple word score. DECEIVE. LIE. HIDE. Not even a measly double letter score on E.

Three hundred and twelve to two hundred and eighty five. Close game. Nothing like seven strategically placed letters to give you the upper hand. BREAKUP. Will it pass? That's two words. Oh shit. Swap your tiles.

Her turn. TRYING. A feeble attempt. Just ten points. GREEDY. Double word score. She furrows her eyebrows; she rearranges her tiles. She sees a word but can't see the word. Your tiles sit patiently, waiting to morph the snaky form collecting dust.

QUIT. You raise an eyebrow. Meticulously, you voice your thoughts. QUITE. She looks at her rack, fingering the tops of the tiles, wondering which direction to go next. Unwavering and ahead by a dozen, one by one, she places her remaining tiles to complete her thought. UNREQUITED.

You look back at your rack but it's over.

She had the last word.