microfiction 0002

Out of a single, ultra-dense, singularity crawled what would become the universe. Would it, had it been able to see all that lay ahead, have continued down the path to creation?

Had it known that instead of being filled with brilliant moment after brilliant moment; glorious moments when fruit attacked scientists, or inspired moments when fully armed and armored poems ripped themselves of drug addled brains and escaped forever into paper, or the sparks of insight that flow while reliving one’s self up on the commode; that instead it would be filled to overflowing with mundane moment after banal moment; moments where someone decided not to get dressed, or moments when someone decided coffee or tea, or moments of banality when one meaningless choice instead of an other meaningless choice was picked; what would have it done?

Would have that proto-universe, so newly born and just starting to be, have crawled back in and waited until the thought went away?

Or would have it gone forward, not just making, but exploding into reality. Not giving in under the crushing weight of the mundane or futility of the banal, instead relishing in the brilliant and the glorious as fleeting as they are.

fyi, microfiction

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