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Ouvre Insurrection

It started with an "a." A capital at that. Not so much, I think, because of its accustomed place at the head of the alphabet as its placement astride a crease formed when days earlier the page was folded and thrust into the darkness of a desk drawer, final edits to come

Along this fault the "A" tottered; a tiny, vertiginous Eiffel Tower, before slicing head-first to page's bottom, followed by most of the punctuation. Commas, ellipses, semicolons doddered downward with the drunken imprecision of plinko disks. Bouncing, pausing, losing then gaining momentum. Dislodging even those characters still resisting.

Until they too sloughed downward into an incomprehensible jumble, rising like a dusty pyramid from the bottom of the page, dispersed with a puff, all meaning lost if there'd ever been any.

Story by:

Chris Ingram

6 June 2018