This.
Yes, *This*.
It’s what I’m doing right now. Not your right now, dear reader, but my right now.
Only moments ago, *This* wasn’t here.
There was no concept of what *This* would become.
Nevertheless, *This* was started.
Became *This*.
Became? Became what?
Now we are equals.
I don’t know yet. And neither do you.
But as the clickity-clack of the QWERTY mimics the nervous gnashing of teeth, you and I can discover it together.
*This* could have started with ‘Once upon a time’, but I know that would be too cutesy for my dear reader.
This could have started with ‘It was a dark and stormy night… ‘, but the rules of this game have a limit to how many QWERTY conjoined bits and bobs *This* can contain.
But I do know that *This* started with a spark.
A simple spark that appeared at 3:02am.
Moreover, the spark tasks me.
The challenge is accepted gracefully.
However, now… *This* has taken life, but not form.
*This* now sits as a twinkling black ‘|’ on an image facsimile of a white sheet of paper taunting me to tap a QWERTY bit.
Well, a few hundred QWERTY bits ago, it stayed that way for what felt like an eternity.
Here’s the amazing thing – *This* morphed and twisted many times.
At one point, *This* was going to be a keen huntress in a dystopian future named Lena who was also being stalked by her old therapist who had her committed before the fall of society.
I thought, no *That* would have been too big for *This*.
Then *This* was going to be Rennie while he was back in Australia running his Outback Adventure tour company before he met Foxxfyrre.
Then *This* was going to be a dark poem about a broken heart that refuses to bleed.
But none of those *This*s fit the bill.
So for *This*, the butterfly not only needs to flap its wing and cause a tornado in Tokyo, but it also has to fart simultaneously. Or would that bring on the apocalypse?
I don’t think they make Beano for butterflies.
So, dear reader. We are now up to date; you know as much about *This* as I do.
One thing I do know is this, on some level, gauge, gradient, or spectrum *This* is chaos.
But I do love doing *This*, tornados and all.
Now, where did that flutterby go?
TTFN
Frank aka Foxxfyrre