Five years ago I went to the Sporting Good store and a bought a set of cones.  I had recently signed up to captain a rec team and as captain I needed to have cones to setup fields.  So I purchased my cones and promptly rushed home to write my name inside each and everyone.

See, ever since the minute I have purchased cones I knew there would come a day when the innevitable would happen.  I lived in fear of it, carefully guarding my cones with fear and mistrust of all whom would touch them.  Yet, I knew some day the cone gods would turn against me.  Someday, I would lose a cone.

Well, friday that day happened.

About halfway through our game friday, which we were winning handily, the sky gods looked down on us and took offense at our laughter, at our merriment, at our impressive disc skills.  They decided to smite us for the brazen way in which we loft our frisbees unto the heavens.  One minute it was bright and sunny, two minutes later there was strong winds, terrible thunder, a horrendous outpouring of rain… oh, and did I mention the hail? Anyways, there was a mad scramble to get off the field and into cars and under shelter as quickly as possible.  And in the process, one of my cones went missing.

I went back and looked for it, but it was not to be found.

So, yes, the day I dread has come upon me and I am sad and confused.  For now I am the owner of a set of seven cones, which is completely without value.