The Thing That Might Not Be

I looked at the thing. What was it? I had no idea.
Could I eat it? Probably not.
Could I touch it? That was anyone’s guess.
Could I lift it? There was no way to tell how heavy it would be.
Even describing it seemed impossible. I did not know which words to use.
Even my favourite ones seemed inadequate to the task.

I decided to leave it where it was. Maybe someone else would know what to do with it.
Maybe it would change someone else’s life.
But not mine.
Because I did not know what it was.

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David Baillie is a freelance writer and artist. Born almost thirty years ago in Scotland, he now lives and works in the East End of London.

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