Marble or flame? Or maybe chalk? The grand canyon was flame. The moat was a sea, a sea of flame, but it was stone. And a dull sort of flame, a vast sort of flame. A trench of flame. Grand was an understatement. Now, one, two, three let's jump. 6000 feet whir by, but we, fictional, are unharmed. Splash into the river, it's only 40 feet. We don't need to swim up, just float. We, fictional, have it easy. Now see the world at the bottom of the fire? Blue above us blue beneath us flame around us. The grand canyon was marble. Yellow layer, red layer, orange layer, overlapping and mixing and spinning and twisting. Like marble, it had sectors of color. Stripes and strips, chunks and veins. For certain, we rest at the bottom of two parallel paintings by the river, marble strings and stripes flowing between terracotta red white. The grand canyon was chalk. Swim back down and touch a rock. Feel that? Chalk. Pick it up and scratch it onto a yellow stripe, see the red trail left behind. Chalk. Perhaps if marble was made of chalk? Perhaps if marble was made of chalk and flame that would be the grand canyon. So, marble or flame?