What makes a stones throw ripple?

What makes a stones throw ripple?
Is it two children standing on a beach at 5?
Is it the gift of a jar of collected stones at a sicillian funeral 30 some odd years later?
Is it the stones that were thrown in between?

What sympathies lie for the stones that were thrown? What pieces to the puzzle were never implemented, that left me sitting here on the doorstep flicking cigarettes into the driveway? While somewhere in the vastness of Manhattan he's driving a Jeep and trying to stop the import / export of the never ceasing Narcotics trade.

What gave him the right to escape the rush of the Falls, and enter the Jungle of Urban night...

There are no Honeymoons in Vegas. There are no Honeymoons anymore. The skies darken with the collusions of men and women falling to the darkness of the gaming arena, as though the holographic fighters of chiba might be all that's left once they put the boxing ring up in this town.

The Splash park has been sold. There won't even be water in a city of water. It will all be sand and chips, like that home away from home in the Nevada Desert, so much so, that Art Bell won't be able to lay claim to what once was Area 51. The real aliens are among us, they are oh so near, walking in their Ikons and leisure suits, a stones throw away from that next fix at the gaming table. A stones throw away from that next fix at the bar. A stone's throw away from the beautiful room service prostitute.

What makes a stone's throw ripple like a typhoon? What is missing? Is it the color? The color that we are all to accustomed to having now? Nothing matters in the darkness, of a scannered glow, with swipecards and identifications, and lasers in every grocery mart.

The time is coming in the Lucky Dragon where you'll be able to throw your stones at the loose change machines and scratch off your luck for what amounts to nothing more than a stone. It used to be the penny. Now it will be the nickel stone, the thing that will engraft itself into the next consciousness.

So where are these two children on the beach...
They've gone their seperate ways, one into action, the other into solitude and expression in sand...Perhaps the one is the stone, and perhaps the other is the ripple. The ripple is what will last, the ripple is what will shake the foundations of continents, the ripple is what will cause the tsunami. But as with all of them, the ripple will fade...

But the stone will one day wash ashore again...
Perhaps as sand, or a pebble, or even part of a larger rock. Only to be thrown again, for another birth, and another funeral.