My Grandfather enjoyed a flutter on the horses.
“Nothing is a certainty, mate.” he said.
That’s not right, I thought.
One plus one equals two.
That’s a certainty isn’t it?
The sky is blue. The grass is green.
I used to collect facts like badges of honour and I prided myself on having the answers.
I was always first to put my hand up:
pick me pick me pick me
let me show you how clever I am.
But sometimes, the grass is brown.
The sky is red and orange and pink and purple
and quite often grey.
Sometimes, things don’t add up.
All in all
I know nothing.
So my Grandfather was right of course.
Nothing is a certainty.
This post is my response to
Day 1 of #Reverb14 hosted by Kat McNally. Click through to find out more about this reflective writing challenge and to read more responses.