marble journey part VI

ZAVION AND HENRY

It wasn’t about luck. It never had been. The marble practically had a string attached to it. Henry saw that clearly now. Zavion saw it. The marble had a sort of magic. Back and forth. Back and forth, weaving between them. And it wasn’t just in the marble. It was in the whole world. The magic was in the space between. In all the pieces connecting.

In all the pieces connecting, falling apart, and connecting again.

The wind blew and the fog rolled right back in, covering everything. It was as if the valley had never been there. But it was there. Henry had seen it. Zavion had seen it. Like their joy and even like their fear, it would seem to come and go, but it didn’t change the fact that the valley was there all the time.

The wind blew a third time, and the fog disappeared once again.

“Does that happen often up here?” said Zavion.

“Yup,” said Henry. “All you have to do is wait a few seconds, and things change.”

—

Henry and Zavion stood on the edge of the mountain, on the edge of the earth, where the sun and the moon shine over rivers and valleys, oceans and forests, cities and farmland. They breathed in and out, in and out, a spiral of mountain and river and air, a spiral of dog and cat and bird, a spiral of boy and boy and a marble traveling between them.