Almost Perfect

“Do you believe in perfection?”

She sits with her back against the rock. In a sea of swaying grass it is the only landmark in sight. The crooked tree on top grows with its roots wrapping around to the ground. It is her friend’s favorite perch.

“I’ve been thinking lately.”

You think too often.

“I’ve spent most of my life trying to get better at things, improving at this or that, removing my flaws one by one. It would seem that the ultimate goal to such a quest would be perfection.”

It isn’t possible.

“But what if it was? What if you had all the time in the world and could just refine your flaws away until one day there was nothing left at which you could improve? Would that be perfection?”

Sounds kinda boring.

“Though, I wonder if personality arises from the flaws. How much of us do you suppose would be left if we chiseled away all of our imperfections? Would that be too much like trying to refine the impurities out of this boulder?”

You’d kill the tree.

“Do you think it’s possible though?”

Before her the horizon burns. Above her black and stars push. Behind her there is rock and tree and nothing. Below her there is only crushed grass.

--

Er, this is actually complete in a sense. It was the first part of a larger three part story I wrote for my creative writing class at the end of my last term. The third part is something of a twin to this one. Together they formed a frame around the bulkier middle section which was more of a traditional story, although in this case I use the word traditional extremely liberally. I've considered writing another 'girl and friend' story or maybe a series of them. They're kind of fun to try to piece together.