Gravity

Gravity has been dependable for so long that everyone has stopped noticing. Oceans stay put. Chairs remain a sensible investment. Entire worlds manage to keep their belongings. Yet drop one phone face down and suddenly Gravity is the subject of a very personal complaint.

It tries to take this professionally. Reliability rarely attracts applause, and humans have never been particularly interested in writing positive reviews for the floor. Still, an occasional acknowledgment would be nice. The Universe appreciates its contribution, although being thanked for “helping with the galaxies” does not quite cover the hours.

It has a soft spot for ambitious people. It likes a ladder, admires a good jump, and follows every flying machine with quiet interest. The difficulty is that people keep treating enthusiasm as an exemption from the usual arrangements. Gravity cannot make exceptions simply because someone shouted “Watch this.” Reality agrees, although neither ever gets invited into the conversation until someone is already on the ground. Underneath the weary patience is a force that genuinely wants to keep things close. It considers “down to earth” a compliment and has never understood the appeal of being above everyone.