Uncertainty

Fingers grasping lightly around the smooth contours of the cool glass. Condensation slides over my hand as I place the glass on the table. Whoa! The table teeters, rocks right into place. I catch the glass. Whew! This table, the one you left behind after your abrupt departure. It’s unsteady, shaky, unbalanced. The fixer impulse as I look for something to put under foot. Ah! A matchbook unused, unlit, a perfect wedge. I softly place the glass back on the table, on a slight puddle of water. Huh? As if on its own volition it slides left, hydroplaning to a spot unintended. Just as you did with your life. Oh. It seems stable at the moment but I’m still unsure, uncertain of the matchbook, the table, the glass, and my reflexes. Hmm. So, I walk away from the table as I’m no longer thirsty.