The Glass House

His eyes stung in the corners as he struggled to open them. His head jerked to the side in an attempt to escape the light beating down on him. After a few seconds of blindness, his eyes adjusted and the surroundings became clear. Glass and sand. But the glass seemed to be all around him, a box, or even a house. If one could glimpse into his thoughts, it would be equivalent of glimpsing an angry mob and trying to pick out one voice. He fell to one knee, now realizing this mysterious glass was underneath him too. He couldn't reach the sand if he tried, or could he?

His brain clicked and he looked at his surroundings. Solid glass, with nothing but sand until the sky ate up his view. Confusion overtook his investigation, and fear overtook confusion. Why was he here? What'd he do? Where was he? Where was anything? Where was God? Maybe his angels looking over him were on vacation. He knew he had never lived a good life, he always dished out what he knew he couldn't take, but he never allowed others to pass it back onto him. He'd stole a little bit as a kid. Took advantage of a few women, but do any of those really deserve this? This..

"Glass House?"

Seems like when the words dripped off his tongue the gears in his cranium suddenly found each others motions and synchronized. That famous quote, Don't throw stones if you live in a glass house. No way, that was too far stretched. He tried to shake the eerie feeling he now had, so he glanced around to see if there was anything he could use to his advantage. A door, a window, a weapon, anything. The middle of the room seemed to lock right into his eyesight.. a pile of stones.

Now, his paranoid mind left little doubt about his recent theory. He was here for a reason. He threw stones, and he always lived in his glass house of a shelter. Now he literally had these circumstances. The smooth, apple sized stone resting on top found its way into his sweating palm. He could just break it and go, no worry and find a city. But glass shatters, and something with no support collapses. His eyes did yet another search amongst the house, now realizing it was perfectly balanced. One small crack and the whole thing came down. On him.

So what was he to do? Die of heat stroke? The temperature was hot enough to make a camel need a cold bath. Should he throw the stone and hope for the best? Maybe his angels were back from their vacation and would be looking after him. The thoughts bounced in his head..

And he threw the stone.