There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet, more than four-hundred-and-fifty thousand words in a standard English dictionary, and seemingly endless ways to turn them all into something meaningful. Words are one of the few things everybody seems to understand and use without ever touching, smelling, or tasting . It seems that most people are content with seeing words and accepting them as one-dimensional and static. I am not. I’ve come to believe that there is something like the Garden of Eden in everyone’s mind, and that is where words really live. I’m not referring to the occasional “A” found under a rock or the “Z” hanging lazily from a branch, I’m talking about the words that dangle from a forbidden tree. It has become my goal to open up that garden gate, and follow the vine-covered path until I reach that tree. I want to touch my red, round soul and sink my teeth into it, letting the juice run down my chin and making my fingers sticky.
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