Ever feel like all the water of the world is leaving you? That's how Roti the little stone felt. Given a decade, it was absolutely distraught. It had been waiting for a rain, but none came. No pressure on it, it felt about to break up in sand.
Dozens of its friends had already died. It was not a strong rock to start with, just a clump of hard sand or something. Ah, here it came, death. It felt itself crumbling away. Or did it? It felt itself, its body was trembling, moving, was this an earthquake? It fell down.
"Not that one, too big", said a voice.
Roti had once learnt English. No reason not to, no reason to either. People just spoke it around it. The trees knew English too, but it's not like rocks and trees can speak, so Roti was always alone. It didn't bother it, it was a stone. But now it knew that something was moving it and wanted from all its heart to communicate, to tell them to leave it alone. It would crumble if treated too harshly.
But no matter. If it died it would not be a rock anymore but ground. Maybe that would be better, to expand its feelings toward all the ecosystem. Or would it only be one grain of sand? It didn't know. Death was perhaps the best outcome, but how could it call for death? No, preferrably life, but what kind of life?
