Ripple. Gone. 5/24/22

By Peter Aronson

Left foot, right foot, one after another, slicing through air, causing an ever-so-slight ripple, a gravitational whisper, the gentlest of swooshes, a micro-trillionth of a gust, the ripple no one sees, feels or touches, interplanetary perhaps, across the universe, but overturning/disturbing/changing nothing, a metaphor for what we control on earth, nada, most of us anyway; We create babies, build houses, raise families, yes that’s true, but beyond that, not much, with rampant disease/massive hunger/never-ending racism/endless war (OMG – War!)/an overheated planet (OMG – Does anyone care?), and this, again, this random, senseless violence (Oh My Freaking God!) – the sheer magnitude of barbarism, the crushing weight of it all, our soul, our being, our symmetry, our light, our ripple of air, sucked in a flash, into a void, a poof, a flicker. Zap. Ripple. Gone. 

                                                                           *   *   *

Peter Aronson is a former journalist and attorney and now he writes children’s books, short stories and essays. His first middle-grade novel, Mandalay Hawk’s Dilemma: The United States of Anthropocene, about kids fighting global warming, was published in December 2021. Info about his books can be found at His short fiction has been published by Shark Reef and Potato Soup Journal. 

Leave a Reply