"T-t-tuh-truthfully," he stammered,
"I cannot tell the d-d-difference."

Inside a recently abandoned coal mine,
His voice scattered down endless tunnels.

He lit a match and held it up before him,
But it immediately burned out.

"Are you an idiot or something?"
His companion shuffled beside him.

There was small, plastic-sounding click
And then they were both bathed in light.

"You can't light matches down here, ***.
You'll blow us to Kingdom Come."

"S-s-s-" but his companion cut him off. "Sorry
don't put the skin back on your bones."

"Now look again, Matine." His companion
Urged him closer to the small wooden table.

Matine looked at the two, ancient sea shells,
Anxiety filling up his stomach like acid soup.

Several tense seconds passed as he brought
Each one up to his face and studied it.

"T-t-tuh-truthfully," he stammered,
"I cannot tell the d-d-difference."

Inside a recently abandoned coal mine,
His voice scattered down endless tunnels.

Matine's companion was not a patient man.
His name was Jack. And he left the mine.

Matine did not.