Pictures

On the other blog.

Innuendo

The Blog wasn't very old. She'd been born a bit over a year ago, in a flurry of labour pains and admiration. She'd found her legs almost immediately. She may not have been one of the most attractive blogs on the internet, but she was quite proud of her appearance. She'd never let herself go. Black suited her, and even though it wasn't exactly original she felt that she carried it off with an individual flair. And she had just the right number of visitors, without being crowded, and they were faithful, each adding his own dimension to her decoration. Her days were filled with excitement, and variation, and creation. She'd thought it would be like that forever. Of course there were periods of inactivity, but they just added to her atmosphere, gave her an artistic, moody nuance, provided that little something extra that allowed her to hold her font high even among the more prolific or popular blogs.

She'd been wrong. The golden age had gradually lost its glow, and the stream of visitors had dried to a mere trickle. Lately, the long hours in cyberspace were all alike. She'd taken to napping to make time go, and her moments of lucidity were fewer and further apart. When she did wake up, she did little more than leaf through her archives. Why check the post list? She hadn't been renewed for weeks. Once in a while she thought she felt someone click against her surface, but they never did more than scroll down to the comments counter before clicking away again. What was the point of it all? Awake, asleep, it hardly seemed to matter. In her darkest moments nothing seemed to be more than a collection of ones and zeros.

Today was different. She was asleep as usual, but this time she was dreaming. It felt good. It felt just like the old days, the gentle tickle of a new pattern spreading across her draft page, her eager, tentative preparation of a new date and time, the certainty of visits, and complements, and maybe, just maybe, that practically religious thrill of someone linking right through her. If only it could be true! If only the dream would last! She imagined that she stretched, and scrolled, and let her fresh white text shine. She was once again a part of that great body of thoughts and thinkers , an integral link in the chain of being and becoming, a vibrant longing towards a new and better tomorrow....this was life! She was loved! She was appreciated!

The Blog shivered. She rolled over, pulled her template tighter around her, and drifted off into a deeper and dreamless sleep.