Morning Popst, May 2, 2016

It was not that he had never given up. Not that he had kept the faith. No, indeed. He had given up, time and again. Sometimes daily, sometimes twice a day, he had given up. And then, finally, he gave up giving up and just let go and let flow and then the words came and kept coming so fast that he could scarce receive them, scarce type that fast and he

made all his words free
for the world all to see

It was only then that the knocks came on the door. Only then that the fat envelopes came through the slot in the door.

copyright 2016

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