The Undoing
With the force of one breath the bits of spent eraser flew off the paper and onto the floor. Once solid and geometrical, they were now sundered and disorganized. Unrecognizable, they had taken on the grayish stain of disfavor. They were to be forgotten.
But within their shriveled kernels was contained nothing but the deepest, darkest secrets of mankind: that which was never meant to be read. The early drafts. The miscalculations. The Freudian slips. The mistakes. To possess these things equaled power, enough power to draw one rubber splinter to another. And then another. And then another, until the whole of the eraser was reunited, larger than before, as it was now pregnant with all the erasures it had enacted. And then the eraser did what no one knew to fear. It wrote back.
It etched obscenities on every surface it touched.
27 + 45 = 73
It wrote with the angry scrawl of something tossed out as garbage, abandoned to oblivion.
The problem is that the strategy does not support the needs of the client is the problem.
Propelled by fury, the eraser spread humiliation faster than anyone could hide the embarrassing missives.
I love John Taylor.
Jennifer Marie Taylor
Jennifer Marie Taylor
Jennifer Marie Taylor
Try as they might, the incriminated authors could not unwrite their regurgitated blunders, for what can erase an eraser? Yet in its bold move to escape extinction, the eraser fatefully rendered itself obsolete. No one dared employ an eraser ever again, turning instead to the fount that covers a multitude of sins...
White Out.
Nice twist, I like it, I like it!
Posted by: J. on January 17, 2004 11:05 PM