somewhere out there, there is a huge pile of marbles. maybe a marble city, where all the marbles go when they get lost. they would live a happily retired life, have dinner parties, long, meaningful conversations, fall in love and have children. One day the grown up marbles would eventually kiss Ma and Pa goodbye and go out into the wide world to be discovered. stumbled upon by mere mortals that would examine them, question them and treasure them. but the cycle must continue and the marbles are destined to be lost, to slip out of the hole in the pocket of a pair of old jeans, to be thrown at another in a fit of passion. they would somehow make their way home, chipped and lacking the shine they were born with, but content. if so many people are losing their marbles these days, why hasn't anyone been able to trace the paths of thousands of marbles migrating back to where they came from?