Random Flying Projectiles

I heard the blood-curdling sound of massive glass-shattering coming from the dining room this

evening, and Daniel quickly ran over to announce that he had accidentally broken a glass.

When I got to the table, it was about as bad as the sound had indicated - a small juice glass

had been smashed to smithereens, with an explosion of colorful crystal across the far end of

the table.

I don't yell when someone breaks something, but I was extremely interested in the story of how

this particular displacement of matter had come to pass. Daniel offered an explanation, with

a bit of a demo: he had picked up a bottle off the table, and swung it around, rather like a

jack-hammer, and inadvertantly (he surmised) hit the glass on the table. He wasn't entirely

sure that this was the precise sequence of events, though, and had to rely somewhat on

conjecture:

"I usually close my eyes when something happens, and hope that nothing lands on me and hurts

me. And that hasn't happened in over a year."

So it seems it's anyone's guess what actually happened; I'm only glad Daniel had the good

sense to close his eyes as the bottle went swinging out of control over his shoulder...

(November 27, 2011)