Story of a Rock

A rock sits out in the sun, round, red, undisturbed. It has rested there for hundreds of years, minding its own business. Watching the sun rise and fall every day, watching the world turn dark every night. Watching the leaves and flowers grow green, dazzling, watching them wilt and fade, watching the snow fall in the massacre of winter, then watch it rise just as beautiful. The clouds constantly transforming before its eyes, that pattern above never the same one moment to the next. Sometimes the heavens above would be overcome with darkness, lightning, thunder, and rain. The rock would be drenched, but it was still minding its own business. In the spring, it would watch as the elk raised their young. They would eat the grass and the flowers, and the mountains in the distance would shimmer blue. In the summer, the wolves would come and hunt the elk in the evenings, catching one of the babes. In autumn, the elk would migrate away, the wolves with them, and leave the rock to itself. To contemplate nothing, just to watch the world transform itself year after year. Watch as one thing turned to another thing. This was the way it was year after year after year.

On just another day the rock was lying low, minding its business, when it spotted a strange creature. It stood on two legs, unlike the rest, and was wearing fur that should have been on the elk! Two of the creatures strode past it, growling at one other, their upper holes moving up and down. What were they doing? The rock had never gazed at anything like this before. Were they some sort of new species of elk? Or were they wolves? As the rock sat there, the pair of them walked closer and closer, eventually stiing down next the rock, placing their sharpened sticks closest to it. But the two continued to growl at each other. Sometimes one would exclaim a particular loud growl, that sounded like rocks rolling down a mountain, bouncing, and hitting cliffs. They had the strangest muzzles. Flat, not like the elk or wolf, and protruding noses, unlike the birds that sometimes pecked the earth. Fur only seemed to be falling from their heads, unlike the bear who's body was covered in it, or Mammoth, who sometimes boomed their feet. The creatures would often touch each other lightly, unlike the elk and deer who rammed each other's heads together, or wolf who wrestled down moose. Now the creatures took something out of a sack, and started shoving food inside their upper holes, still making that growling noise.

When they left, the rock was relieved. But they wouldn't go away, no. The next time it saw them, the two were wrestling. Throwing their limbs at each other, not growling. Red water leaked out of one of them, just like the elk or moose. A wail like a goose escaped into the air, reverberating deep inside the earth and through the mountains. Finally one stopped moving, and the other walked away, leaving the rock in the presense of the thing. But it disappeared like anything else that died, leaving him alone. Days past, day after day after day. Oh no! Another appeared, a different one. Water falling from its moving holes. Bending down to the disappearing thing, digging a hole in the earth, and burrying the thing. Why did it bother? Why did it care? The creature finally left after a few days, but it did return. This time it brought with it others. They began constructing mounds with hollow enteriors. The creatures would go inside and disappear. Eventually the mounds got bigger and bigger and more and more, and the creature with the water eyes started growing plants where the other had died. The rock hated them. The seasons stopped changing like they had, and the elk and wolves stopped coming at all. Even the nights didn't feel as dark, and the days not as bright. It wished they would go away, and let it be.

Sometimes they would leave for awhile, but they always came back. When they did, they would often bring littler, smaller creatures with them. The rock found these ones the most irritating. They would run past it, skipping, howling like a wolf. Once, one picked it up and chucked it far away. Finally the rock felt at peace, but no, the water-eyed creature found it and brought it back to where it was before. Next to its garden that grew on top of the dead one. The creatures seemed to waste everything. Throwing away dead elk and moose and deer, leaving garbage outside their mounds. The rock had watched them scream like geese at each other, throw things, kill one other in the middle of the night. He watched them be impatient, stare into the sky and howl. Throw their fists up toward the heavens, and curse when it didn't rain. It watched as they made fire and dance and howl. It watched them growl and it watched them touch faces. It watched little creatures being born, and it watched them die. Every day after sunset, the water eyed creature, who was now crinkled and pale, would go to its garden and cry. Leak its own water into its own garden. Slowly, the rock grew to love its people. It would bless the crying creature, and miss the little ones when they grew older. One day, the old water eyed creature died, and its littler ones burried it deep in its garden. Sooner or later, the littler people would get bigger and die too. This was the way it was year after year after year.

On just another day the rock was lying low, minding its own business. The day proceded like normal. It watched as the creatures went about their daily business. Growling, whistling like birds, chasing each other. They started their fire and threw out their garbage. One creature was arguing with another about nothing. Smaller creatures played, almost stepping on the rock. Just like normal. A sudden shot reverberated through the air, sounding like nothing the rock had ever heard before. The creatures stared at each other nervously, pointing out east. Bam. Bam. Bam. Creatures on top of four-legs burst into the rock's people. Creatures with sticks that blasted fire at the others. They howled, their legs trying to flee. BAM. BAM. BAM. Red water poured onto the earth and into the garden. BAM. BAM. BAM. Howling, growling, screaming, that's what it was, screaming for it stop. Then it was over, and the rock's people were dead. The men with four legs went away, and left the others to sit there. Gradually, the bodies disappeared, and then their mounds drifted a way in the breeze. Finally, the water eyed creature's garden wilted. Green petals falling away until nothing was left but one sprout. Then that disappeared too, and the rock was alone. It waited and waited for its people to return, no longer caring about the elk or wolf. It only wished its people would return to it. It forgot about the sky and the earth and all the other things it once loved. This was the way it was year after year after year.

One day, just like any other, the creatures returned. Covered in material the rock had never seen them wearing before, and growling in all new tones. One creature pointed to the earth and then the sky, smiling, its head with an odd creature on top of it. It sniffed, and pointed straight at the rock, its upper mouth flapping, the caterpillar under its nose smirking. The rock was delighted. Finally, they had returned to it. Finally, they came back for it. Finally, it was going to have people again. It waited the whole night eagerly anticipating the next day, because it knew the people enjoyed the light more than the dark. Then the day came, and the rock could barely hold back its excitement. The creature returned, this time with a mammoth creature. It pointed at the rock, then thrusted its hand in the other direction, winking at the mammoth. The mammoth moved forward, thrusting its tusks into the earth, picking the rock up. The rock couldn't wait as the clouds moved with him. Where were the creatures taking him now? The sky stopped, and the mammoth moved its tusks. The rock fell, sliding into the bottom of a lake. It drifted slowly down, watching the sun fade away, until it was dark and the light disappeared.