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One lonely night, I sat alone at my computer, casting about for inspiration. The glowing phosphors of the computer monitor formed words, which my mind promptly produced pictures to match. The question I struggled with was not how to write the message I wanted to send, but how to give my readers insight into my thinking. I wanted to form the pictures, not in my own mind, but in theirs instead. A green bottle, beads of condensation on the outside revealing the amount of liquid within. Tilted slightly, resting amongst half melted ice cubes. The cork sits forgotten on the table, its purpose already served. The glint of the candlelight reflecting off the gossamer strands of gold, hanging from the delicate earlobe of a slightly tipsy socialite. Each tiny chain holding a faux diamond, her real jewelry safely kept away in a safe, waiting for just the right occasion to be brought out and ostensibly flashed about as a status symbol. The earring jostles in time as she nods her head, feigning interest in her dinner partner's shallow attempts to impress her. The marble lions which guard the entryway to the restaurant, frozen in a majestic crouch. They forever hold vigil, announcing to all who pass this establishment "my patrons are just better people than you." But, how am I to manipulate the phosphers of your monitor, to plant these images in your mind? I suppose it is hopeless.
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