I wondered about how they were like hollow ice cubes. Phoney and dry. They were cold to the touch, but sort of green. That just wasn't right. Nothing was friendly about the block glass, yet my mother so liked it. I tried to see why.
When I grew up and learned that block glass was a symbol, a statement about a time, I warmed to it, especially when I saw it on home shows on television. I liked it when it was used inside as a part of the house design. For some reason it made more sense to me then. Block glass and I struck up a friendship. It's a reminder and a protection.
This night when only clouds without stars hang from the sky, I feel strangely like I see a wall of block glass keeping watch over me.
--me strauss Letting me be