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Once upon a time, a beautiful, white vase sat upon a golden podium, deep within the woods. It was molded from supple clay like all other vases, and held water like all other vases, but calling it ordinary was the greatest of all insults. It was wider than any jar, and taller, its height making the stand beneath it a dwarf. The vase was bleached white and coded in a glaze that gave it a smooth gleam that shamed all its predecessors. It was a great beauty, but frail, its sides were thin and, from within, it was weak and rough, revealing the tan colored clay that was masked on the outside.

One day, a crack appeared on the vase, a black serpent slivering across the vast white. With every day that passed, it slowly grew longer and thicker, engorging on the clay.

Months had passed since the crack had claimed the vase as its home, and now it had grown into a fissure, releasing water from within the vase. Streams were formed, flowing down the white sides, landing onto the podium, and slowly dripping off. The snake was not satisfied, however, and continued to eat away at the vase, not caring for the water that escaped, or for the smoothness that it had eroded.

It grew ever larger until one day, a shattering noise filled the once quiet forest. Baby serpents had spawned from the large one, and branched off from it in all directions. The vase could not support all of the new, hungry mouths, so it broke. Pieces once beautiful fell like rain, scattering across the forest floor without grace. The last of the water came out in a flood, and ran down the golden podium like tears. The base of the vase, made from plain clay, stood alone and destroyed, its walls shattered and inhabitants gone.

Never will there be another vase that possessed such beauty.


((Hope you enjoyed the short story, and if you haven't noticed, it wasn't meant to be literal. I bet you can guess what inspired it.))