A common theme among many of the blogs I follow is variations on the meme that asks the blogger to reveal things about themselves their readers are not expected to know.
I little something virtually no one knows about me is that I was once accused of writing poetry with the following piece of prose, composed in answer to a writing challenge, the nature of which I have long since forgotten:
Butterflies. Hungry butterflies.
Monarchs. Swallow Tails. Skippers and Pearl Eyes. Metalmarks abound.
Butterflies. They’re everywhere. They follow me. I cannot hide.
Oh so beautiful. Swarming upon me. Driving me down.
Butterflies. Butterflies of doom.
The strange things a writer can find hidden in the depths of their computers archives.
