When I contemplate the connections between my world and everything else there is no end to entanglements. In some miraculous way that seems commonplace, the universe exists in a teacup and it took an infinite chain of events and possibly close to eternity to slip hot brew through my lips as I pondered
Storytellers' word prompt "ordinary".
Stuffing huge amounts of leaves into bulging bags is quite ordinary this time of year.
Even leaves that escaped the bags will vanish into dust ... nothing unique about that.
Seeing a broken mirror was a bit unusual. My reflection peeked out from its shattered face, a misty moment that will not reappear in the same way. Although some things seem similar, the planet's palette rearranges itself continuously like clouds at play.
The art (below) was stuck on the wall like random words in a poem that fit. The circles made me think of coins collecting in fountains and all the wishes simply sitting there.
If I had a penny, I might have tossed it into the decorative waterfall gurgling at me by a building. It was an artificial construct but the water was real and life-sustaining.
The stream could fill the cups of many that drink-in routinely the potent brew of being.
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