THE THREE STONES

There were once three stones who lived by the sea.
One was flat.
One was round.
And one was rough with a very sharp point.
Every day, people came to the sea.
They pushed the flat stone down into the sand with their feet.
They kicked away the round stone as they dragged their picnic baskets into place.
And they tossed aside the rough stone with the very sharp point as they spread their towels across the beach.
It was like this, day after day, year after year, for as long as the three stones could remember.
One day the flat stone said, "I've had enough. Day after day, always the same, stuck in one place. I want to do something different."
The round stone replied, "I've had enough, too. Every day, one minute, here; the next, there. It's not the life for me."
The rough stone with a very sharp point added, "And all I seem to do is cause trouble. No one ever wants me around."
The flat stone responded, "Hm…Stirring up a little trouble now and then sounds interesting. I wish I were rough with a very sharp point like you."
The round stone said, "But staying in one place for the whole day through sounds heavenly to me. I wish I were flat like you.
And the rough stone with the very sharp point replied, "Ah…But to be somewhere different one moment and to not know where the next…I wish I were round like you."
The flat stone retorted, "But you can't do that! I want to be round! I'd roll far, far away...."
"Well, that's fine with me," said the round stone. "I'd rather be rough with a very sharp point. I'd use my point to stick myself into the ground, and nobody would mess with me."
"Go right ahead. I'm going to be flat," answered the rough stone with a very sharp point. To just BE, and that's all. I would be so happy...."
"But I'm not happy!" yelled the flat stone.
"Well neither am I!" cried the round stone.
"And I'm the unhappiest of all!" shouted the rough stone with a very sharp point.
"The world is all wrong!" they shouted together.
Just then, a fourth stone, who was square, spoke up, "The world is what it is. And you are, too. Look at me. I live by the sea. I watch the tide go in and the tide go out. And I am content."
"But how can you be content? You're as plain as a box!" retorted the flat stone.
"You never go anywhere," added the round stone.
"You never have any fun," chided the rough stone with a very sharp point.
"You have no imagination!" the all shouted together. "That's not a life!"
The fourth stone replied, "It's the life I have. It's what I am. I am happy; so what else is there? In the end, it's all really what you think. In the end, it's all really what you decide."
The flat stone cried, "Yeah, and I want to be round. I want to be able to go off with my buddies and do different things."
The round stone cried, "And I want to be rough with a very sharp point so I can be above the rest, seeing the world, taking in all there is!"
The rough stone with a very sharp point sighed, "If only I could be flat….To stretch out at noon and soak in the sun…That would be the life for me."
"I want to be round!"
"I want to be rough with a very sharp point!"
"I want to be flat!"
“Round!”
“Rough!”
“Flat!”
The three all glared at each other, eyes locked, the words of each echoing around them, then slowly seeping in.
In the silence that followed, the sun moved from behind a cloud.
The fourth stone cleared his throat and a cool sea breeze passed over them.
"I never thought of that," said the flat stone.
"Neither did I," said the round stone.
"Nor did I," said the rough tone with a very sharp point.
"Then perhaps you're not too clever," said the square stone.
And the three stones smiled, sheepishly, I’m sure.
From that day forward, the flat stone stretched out at noon to laze in the sun.
The round stone took an afternoon stroll with his friends.
And the rough stone raised himself to his very sharp point to take in the beautiful world around him.
And the fourth stone, the square stone?
He just kept where he was, watching the tide go in and the tide go out. For remember, he had no imagination.

Debbie Robertson divides her year between the United States and France, loving the summer and winter skyline sunrises of Houston, Texas, and reveling in the spring and fall mountain sunsets in the Alpes de Haute Provence. Her works have appeared most recently in Heimat Review, Academy for the Heart and Mind, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, Ekphrastic Review, and Toute la Vallée, a French journal. She has written plays and “operas” for children’s theatre, and parallel text (English-French) short stories.