I was on the Gallia County Farm, where I had apparently been living for a while. I walked into a building where I had stored some of my things, among which was a large brown rock – about a half meter in diameter. I wasn't even sure why I had been keeping the rock, but I thought it might have had something to do with geology. Maybe I had been studying strata with it.

Finally I decided I wanted to get rid of the rock, and as I thought about it, I considered how sometimes a person could be constructive by being destructive. And I decided to destroy the rock.

I picked up the heavy rock, walked to the bridge which crosses Symmes Creek in front of the Farmhouse, and looked down into the water. The water was so clear I could see much larger rocks, some as much as three meters across, on the bottom anchored into the creek bed – except one which apparently had broken loose and was moving around in the water. It looked as if it were going to be pushed downstream.

Another large rock was jutting up out of the water farther from the bridge. I decided to throw my rock down on top of it so my rock would smash to pieces. Suddenly I thought I heard a car in the distance. I wondered if I should throw the rock or if I should return to the Farmhouse. I decided to throw the rock and heaved it over the edge of the bridge toward the big rock. But the rock fell short of the rock and simply went into the water, sinking to the bottom.

It sunk into the mud and muddied the water so I couldn't see the rock.