u/Consistent-Zebra1653

Someone threw a brick at my window. A normal blue-collar worker would have stared at it for thirty seconds, sighed dramatically, and gone about their day. I did not. I began with the brick. Then I started looking for nearby walls that are missing a brick. Then I went to the brick store. Then to the brick factory. Then I went to the clay quarry. At some point I stopped trying to find a brick and started conducting a Brickmasonry Forensic investigation. I uncovered kiln signs. I uncovered vitrification procedures. I uncovered mortar joints. I found enough brick data to write a masonry report. What I did not find was the brick. Every path led to the same conclusion: The brick had been pulverized into aggregate. Not hidden. Not crushed. Not secretly preserved in some forgotten corner of the brickworks. Pulverized. Gone. Erased from existence with an efficiency that was frankly efflorescent. The final blow came when I discovered that the brick had survived approximately three seconds after being thrown through my window. Three seconds. I had spent hours crawling through masonry tutorials, cost-efficient brickworks, bricklaying, and compressive strength measurements because a man had thrown a brick through my window. By the end of the night I knew more about bricklaying than I knew about the brick. The brick remains a mystery. The masonry became a legend. And somewhere out there is a man who has absolutely no idea that his thrown brick nearly resulted in a complete masonry career of a woman with unresolved kerfing talent.