text: “What are you doing?” “Hm? Oh. Just throwing rocks.” In the middle of an uninteresting forest clearing there stood a person beside a pile of rocks. They had just reared up with a rock in-hand and chucked it uneventfully into the air, a melancholic look on their face, when another person had wandered by to see what was happening. “Throwing rocks?” “Yeah. I’ve got these rocks, see?” The person nudged the knee-high pile of rocks, sending the top few spilling to the ground. “So I’m throwing them.” “But...why?” “Why what?” “Why throw the rocks?” “Why not? What else would I do?” Another rock flies into the air, a little lower than the first. “I mean, it’s just a little odd.” “Throwing rocks is odd?” “Isn’t it? In a certain sense.” “Which sense?” “Well, in the sense that you could be doing something else. Something else with those rocks, even.” “Like what? There was a neat pile of rocks, so I’m throwing them. You wanna try?” “No, thank you. I’m still working this over.” “Not too much to work over, I don’t think. Haven’t you ever skipped a rock before?” “Well, sure. I’ve *skipped* a rock plenty of times, but that’s entirely different than just throwing them.” “Is it?” A third rock. This was the highest yet, and got an admiring nod from the rock thrower. “Of course. There’s a point to *skipping* rocks. It’s enjoyable.” “Does something have to have a point to be enjoyable?” “I think so.” “I’m enjoying myself.” “I don’t see how. There’s no point to just throwing rocks up and watching them fall down. At least in skipping, you’re trying to get the highest number of skips.” “Must the point be quantifiable? Can’t the point just be that it’s enjoyable?” “I...suppose." “Sure you don’t want to try?” A silence. Two more rocks thrown, neither of them as high as the third. “You know, I think I will give it a try.” “That’s the spirit. Take your pick.” The second person chooses a decent sized stone from the pile, testing the weight. “What are we aiming at, anyway?” “Nothing in particular. Just throwing.” “I see. So...what if you hit someone?” “I’d apologize, I think. Nobody wants to be hit with a rock.” They both threw their rocks at nothing in particular. The second person’s went a little higher than the firsts’, and they both nodded in appreciation of the good throw. “I think I get it now.” “Do you?” “I think.” “I’m glad.” Another tandem throw, nothing comparably impressive about either. “Say, what’s the point of this story?” “Story?” “It’s a way I like to think about things. If someone were writing this as a story, what would be the moral of it? What would be the point to reading it?” “Well, did the writer enjoy writing it?” “I...don’t see why not. Sure, I suppose they did.” “Will the reader enjoy reading it?” “They might, but they may feel annoyed that there wasn’t a point.” “If they enjoy it, then that’s the point. Doesn’t need to be anything complicated.” “But what if they don’t enjoy it?” “They might not. Not everything’s for everyone.” “Well sure, but what would be the point if they don’t enjoy it?” “How many people are reading this story?” “I don’t know, I haven’t really thought that hard about it. A thousand, say.” “Did one enjoy it?” “I guess out of a thousand, at least one would enjoy something pointless, yes.” “Then that’s the point.” “I don’t follow.” “If one person enjoys something, even if the rest find it pointless, it has meaning to someone. That’s the point.” By that point, the pile of rocks was just about gone. Only two remained. “So you could say it’s like throwing rocks at nothing in particular?” “Exactly. Somebody else may not like it, but as long as one person does- there’s the point.” A final throw for each. This was the least impressive throw so far, for both of them. “Well, that’s done. What will you do now?” “No idea,” the rock thrower answered.