orangejammies
Little Post sat quietly in a corner, his heart sinking to his boots rapidly. All around him were his boisterous brothers and sisters, festooned with comments and basking in hits on the online journal where they all lived, while he sighed and tried to keep up a brave front.
Little Post was an esoteric sort, the kind a woman would write to her lover as an inside joke. No one understood him, no one tried. So he stood shamefacedly alone, while the throngs of Blogland stomped right past him, ooh-ing and aah-ing over other worthy contenders.
One night, nearly six weeks after his birth, he felt a nudge in the middle of the night. “Wha?!!” he started, unused to company. In the dim light, he noticed that a Comment had quietly slipped into his crib and lay there, blinking happily at him. Could it really be, he thought, a whole Comment, just for him? Sleep now evaporated, he peered closer. “That was beautiful,” she read simply, “I would love to see more of your work. Signed, Rudro Dasgupta, Acquisitions Editor, Penguin India.”
Little Post squealed. He scurried back under his covers and shivered. And then, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he reached out and pinched Comment. She was there alright, resting now, while he lay awake in the dark, scarcely breathing. Someone had found, him, Little Post, beautiful?? They wanted more?? But what if his author didn’t notice, he worried. What if she laughed at the ‘prank’? The thought made Little Post very, very nervous.
It was a long time before he slid into an uneasy slumber and the sun was high in the sky when he awoke. A stream of excited jabbering filled his ears and he realized he had company. Lots of it. A choir of Comments with their wrists poised, were clearing their throats to sing a capella in admiration. But each time they began, in would jump another and another and another!
Little Post looked around nervously for his author. Had somebody told her? She wasn’t on a blog-break, was she? He needn’t have worried. Startled and ecstatic in turns, she thankfully believed the Comment was for real and was already in talks with the publishing house.
The days slid by rapidly, moving quicker and quicker until Little Post only saw a white blur. Between housing scores of now-regular visitors and keeping a ear open for bloggerhood gossip about a ‘deal’, he lost track of time. By the time his birthday came around, he was the most feted entry, a veritable Cinderella among posts. His crowning moment arrived when, in all his diminutive glory, he was chosen to grace the first page of The Book, with the descriptor “This is where it all began.” And so ends the story of Little Post, who left his journal home and catapulted into literary stardom, practicing his sideways wave and making all of us in Blogland believe in the magic of our words.
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Little Post was an esoteric sort, the kind a woman would write to her lover as an inside joke. No one understood him, no one tried. So he stood shamefacedly alone, while the throngs of Blogland stomped right past him, ooh-ing and aah-ing over other worthy contenders.
One night, nearly six weeks after his birth, he felt a nudge in the middle of the night. “Wha?!!” he started, unused to company. In the dim light, he noticed that a Comment had quietly slipped into his crib and lay there, blinking happily at him. Could it really be, he thought, a whole Comment, just for him? Sleep now evaporated, he peered closer. “That was beautiful,” she read simply, “I would love to see more of your work. Signed, Rudro Dasgupta, Acquisitions Editor, Penguin India.”
Little Post squealed. He scurried back under his covers and shivered. And then, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he reached out and pinched Comment. She was there alright, resting now, while he lay awake in the dark, scarcely breathing. Someone had found, him, Little Post, beautiful?? They wanted more?? But what if his author didn’t notice, he worried. What if she laughed at the ‘prank’? The thought made Little Post very, very nervous.
It was a long time before he slid into an uneasy slumber and the sun was high in the sky when he awoke. A stream of excited jabbering filled his ears and he realized he had company. Lots of it. A choir of Comments with their wrists poised, were clearing their throats to sing a capella in admiration. But each time they began, in would jump another and another and another!
Little Post looked around nervously for his author. Had somebody told her? She wasn’t on a blog-break, was she? He needn’t have worried. Startled and ecstatic in turns, she thankfully believed the Comment was for real and was already in talks with the publishing house.
The days slid by rapidly, moving quicker and quicker until Little Post only saw a white blur. Between housing scores of now-regular visitors and keeping a ear open for bloggerhood gossip about a ‘deal’, he lost track of time. By the time his birthday came around, he was the most feted entry, a veritable Cinderella among posts. His crowning moment arrived when, in all his diminutive glory, he was chosen to grace the first page of The Book, with the descriptor “This is where it all began.” And so ends the story of Little Post, who left his journal home and catapulted into literary stardom, practicing his sideways wave and making all of us in Blogland believe in the magic of our words.
Poll Rate this entry