“In the classroom, the project was set down on the table, and one of the small figures fell over. The child took the figure between their two fingers, but the child squeezed too tightly, and the figure snapped in two.”

The Masterpiece

By Robyn Bashaw

The child stroked their fingers gingerly across the landscape, accidentally shaking the surface. They jerked their hand back, then spotted a piece of dust marring the masterpiece. So, the child blew on it, meaning for dust specks flew away, but, instead, the sand whirled around inside. The child dipped their finger in the cool blue, stirring it so the dust could settle below the surface.

            “Hurry up, or you’ll be late for school,” the child’s mother called, and the child ran out, carrying the project between their arms, careful to jostle it the least possible.

            In the classroom, the project was set down on the table, and one of the small figures fell over. The child took the figure between their two fingers, but the child squeezed too tightly, and the figure snapped in two. Overhead, the lights flickered as the teacher attempted to draw the class’s attention. As the lights settled into a dim hum, the child’s elbow knocked the project. The child hollered out in pain while the blue sloshed up onto the sand. Then came the tears, falling onto the round sphere perched upon the desk. When the lights returned, the teacher approached, her shadow darkening one side of the ball as she tried to comfort the child.

“Don’t cry, God,” she reassured. “Your project looks lovely – what did you make?”         

The child’s smile lit up the globe, shining brighter than the light overhead as they answered, “I call it Earth.”

Robyn Bashaw has graduated with a BFA in Creative Writing and published a piddling of stories. Check them out at: https://robynbashaw.wordpress.com/

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