So at work, every week someone will accidentally break something. Out of nowhere you hear gravity breaking apart the strength of the glass. Yesterday I broke one of the only pink sprinkle cups that was in the store. I didn’t even know I broke it until 0.23 seconds after when I heard the shattering glass. Two things came to mind a little later when I thought of the incident.
1. How easily the glass broke.
2. How many pieces it shattered into. No matter how much I kept sweeping I found little shards that could hurt someone on the floor. Even after we closed, I found more glass.
But the sound of glass shattering is quite relieving in some ways. There’s always a risk in owning a glass object – the constant care you have to put into making sure it stays put together. And then once it falls and shatters all over the ground, you feel some sort of relief because now that one particular item no longer poses a concern.
Now I guess this could be super metaphorical. But right now, it’s just a phenomenon that I observed. I’m honestly too tired to elaborate this into something greater than what it is – which is simply just broken shards on the ground.