I Had a Post

I had a post written for today.

I did.

In my mind, I had a post written.

It was beautiful, lyrical, evocative, complete, each word tucked into its sentence just so, each sentence placed where it could best bear up the castle of words. The paragraphs rose up, great stone walls of words, words, words, openings carefully crafted to let the reader in, lead them along, show them the contents of the place and make them gasp with wonder, delight, in awe.

In my mind, I had a post that shone with beauty, with grace.

I should have risen, as soon as it was build, and commit it to paper. Or file. Or post. I should have at least made the outline, a rough sketch of verbosity to show me the way I wanted to build it when I woke.

Instead, I fell asleep. Up late again, I lay in bed and thought words, rolled in them, wrapped myself in them, and drifted into deep slumber. Sleep took my post and unraveled it, knocked it down brick by brick until nothing but a few lone adjectives dusted the ground whereon I had built this amazing post. Adjectives, a verb, a lonely little noun that sleep missed, and the memory that I had, in my mind, a post written that gave me goose-bumps...