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I had this idea for a piece of writing. It would start out in a sort of conversational tone, just meandering around for a while without any real topic, but sort of remaining interesting -- or at least vaguely interesting -- by making reference to itself. Eventually I'd seem to be coming to the point of the thing, but deflect away again. The reader would (hopefully) not bail on me because the reader would want to know where this whole thing was going. I'd be especially careful about the length of the thing, because this sort of textual water-treading can get old pretty fast. Probably I'd make it so that the piece would be fairly short, then hopefully the reader would feel willing to stick with it. At first I thought I'd write it all out in little short phrases so it would look like poetry, but then I came to the conclusion that having the text in prose form would be even better and would appear deceptively normal. Three paragraphs seems to be a good length. With the last one short. Well . . . maybe four paragraphs.  The remainder of this issuance of bracket bracket will consist of a quiet walk along a looping path in the forest near my home. It's been an odd fall this year. At mid-October, lots of the trees and plants remain richly green while others have achieved their fiery ignition. Shhhhhhh. No More Text.
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