All Is Well (Or A Deep Hole At The Very Least)

Thinking all was lost, I closed my eyes. Lost for days in a veritable plantation of ennui, the lush overgrowth of tedium threatening to choke me, with no breeze of inspiration to cool me, I made my peace with the Muses and prepared for the end. Unused thoughts, some even worthy of transcription, slowly inched through my mind and a ticker of similes and alliterative double-entendre beamed across the bottom of my screen, mocking me with their clarity. The intensity of their presence imperiled my near-dead corneas. Irony forced my lips into a grotesque sneer, stretching wide, encouraging clenched, near-gray enameled dentition to capture the rays one last time before forever accepting the inevitability of what might come after.

With my last reserves of inspiration depleted, the stirring nigglers of scampering brain farts popped their last pops and offered themselves as sacramental offerings, teetering on the precipice before falling into the void of eternal oblivion. I mentally Crossed myself while simultaneously cursing Melete, Mneme, Erato, Polyhymnia and the other goddesses whose names I couldn’t remember and possessed no resource to research.

Einstein’s quandary being what it is, I have no knowledge of specific timeframes, but at some point I felt cool zephyrs of metaphor across my face and heard the whirr-r-r of adjectival chopper blades break the silent doldrums. Then, I felt the touch of Roget’s Raiders as they lifted me onto a large conjugation and whisked me away. I would live to fight another day, maybe, hopefully, in another way. The daughters of Zeus never abandon their pups, even if they do understand the sweet ecstasy of privation.