A Note on Hope

 Once, when the air was very cold, a crystal formed that carried inside it all the hope in the world.

    A stranger happened on it, and knew the crystal for what it was. So she took it and carried it with gravest care.

    Soon the first stranger's life came to its end, so she passed it on to another. When his life came to its end, he passed it on. And so the pattern continued, life after life, until a carrier stumbled and the crystal fell to the ground.

    And shattered.

    But that was no matter, for hope did all the better uncontained.

     

     

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