Lita walks slowly down the alley, and walks into a townhouse. The townhouse shines in gleeful Glory, and Lita shuffles inside. As she pushes the doors apart, she sees the glimmer of a thousand glories. She thinks to herself of Heaven, and grabs a chunk of garish Glory. It melts in her hands, and sticks all over her palms. It sticks relentlessly, and she tears her palms apart and an effort to become unstuck. It works, and she regrets trying to grab Glory. The beautiful Glory of gold smiles tauntingly at Lita, who learned her lesson indeed. Lita never tried to grab on to anything; again she knew better.
The next time she sees gold, she runs.
copyright: C. Ward 2017
– crickle-bot publishing