Das Geschirr

Raleigh had the means to save the world from destructive force & glass-shard cuts.

But he couldn’t move. E’er.

There he sat on the cobbled steps o’ the Marvien Gardens like a marble statue, plates o’ porcelain & glasses o’ glass held in intricate spirals. Pigeons would perch on a cup’s rim, but he had to still himself gainst their heft. Itches would shoot through his skin, but he dare not scratch.

But despite his bold efforts, the public knew disaster would come ‘ventually. Some day a hard wind would come, a boy playing ball would bump into him, or he’d get tired.

Each citizen just hoped she was already dead before that dire night came.


Dish, save, sit