There once was a pebble, Rebel Pebble and a rebellious pebble she was. Most pebbles were adorned with one solid color, they adorned themselves with their very favorite one. They became amber, cyan, azure and more, but always one color. There was only one exception. Rebel Pebble was red with one blue stripe right down the middle, she had herself a blue bandana. Most pebbles thought about silly things. They thought about being pebbles on the beach, where it never rained and the dirt did not turn to mud. They dreamed about where dirt never turned to trapping brown sludge, which was lava for pebbles. They imagined pebbles on the beach were never stepped on, which was the most glorious thought of all. If you see a pebble on the ground, take care not to step on her. Pebbles hate being stepped on.
Rebel Pebble had larger aspirations. Every night she stared at the sky while it composed its journey from blue to black. White pebbles, little white pebbles dotted the skies and surrounding towns like dew droplets on morning blades of grass. She marveled over this, as any pebble should. More than any other pebble, she exalted that most majestic pebble among all the pebbles in the sky and surrounding towns. To her, that big white orb in the night sky was paradise. That big white orb circled Rebel Pebble night after night, inviting her to join. Rebel Pebble dreamed for maybe a million nights of one day floating among that orb, so big and bright in the sky. She yearned for it as no pebble ever had before.
One day, her wish came true. She was chosen even over all those glowing pebbles on the ground, in the towns. If you asked her, she would tell you with radiant pride she was part of a chosen few, and it was true. Rebel Pebble sat on the side of a mountain, the same side she had sat on for a million or more nights. One day, the humans did something amazing. It was an act of sacrifice Rebel Pebble was ever grateful for, a price she could never pay back. A big shiny missile sparkled across the sky, like an airplane. It seemed to Rebel Pebble like a shiny smoky arrowhead. A cloud as tall as the sky rose over town; it was shaped just like a mushroom. More arrowheads flew, more clouds sprouted, mushrooms which nobody would eat, mushrooms lifeless as mustard gas. A tidal wave of air flattened the trees around Rebel Pebble and blew her a million miles in the sky, swept up the mountain by the hand of God.
Rebel Pebble circled and circled around the world, higher than the moon, she was among all the glowing pebbles in the sky. No longer were there glowing pebbles back on Earth, no longer were there mushrooms for anyone to eat. No longer was there anybody to eat them.
Moral of the story: dreams really do come true.
Graphic by Patrick Higgins | The Oswegonian
