The words flow like a river, like a waterfall, like a crate full of letters jumping off the highest cloud and floating gently to the earth on a cool breeze of inspiration

The earth slows and stops, waiting for the words to stick, the breeze to shove them together awkwardly, and the people to connect them as they wish

The development is strange, the liberties taken large

But, somehow, in a sort of miracle, ideas connect and join, attaching in a continuous ring around the world, slowly becoming closer and tightening the Earth

Life is connected, forced together in some spots, gliding harmoniously toward a common center in others

Time will smooth everything over, and the connections can never be lost

Until the next crate falls