The Loose Diamond By Adam McAlpine Clark

So he buys me a diamond, just the rock you know, and asks me, well, he doesn’t finish his thought, he’s got it pincer squeezed between his fingers, and I’m wondering now if he’s going to put the question to me but if and how much his fingers hurt, you know his knuckles are white, and he starts talking about supply chain transparency and how he got so frantic, ah the guilt swollen in my throat, he says, like he couldn’t turn the music up loud enough, on the drive back down the Pike from the City worrying about the footprint of the diamond, he sees me puzzled and he looks impatient and his whole arm is flexing as he squeezes the diamond between thumb and forefinger, the fucking footprint, don’t you see, what, like you a carbon footprint you mean, I ask him, God damnit, it’s made of carbon, no I’m talking about miners and blood and corporate fucking power and supply chains and how I ended up with it and doesn’t anyone care about the Congo anymore! and I can’t help but wonder if his fingers are gonna start bleeding and he’s off and away about some shit and I wonder, you know I’m almost smiling at this point, what am I supposed to do with a diamond, suppose he asks and I says yes, what I am I supposed to do with it, do you set it up somewhere that you can see it every day, do you hide it in pouch or bury it in the earth, and I like that, bury it deep within the earth, knowing it and if I say yes I’ll bury it down in the earth and nobody has to know.

© 2014 Adam McAlpine Clark

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