Upon Returning from the Grocery Store and Stocking the Cupboards

Tonight the nonpareils tumbled from the cupboard, struck the floor, spilled open, shimmering pink granules scattered across the floor like so many bits of fairytale magic, lost to the dustpan and the bin.

Except that the container never hit the floor, never opened, but instead clattered into the sink, from whence I retrieved it, returned it to the shelf, closed the door. ...Nonpareils scattered across the floor just sounded more intellectually and visually stimulating (I'm not event certain they were pink, I just liked the sound of pink alongside "fairytale," "magic" and "shimmering"), and from the moment I imagined it, I began to believe this was what actually happened.

But perhaps reality, in this case, hold greater promise, of magic yet untapped. Perhaps tomorrow we will decorate cookies.