The little idea sat adrift on the worn out, make shift plank. It’s vast in the creator’s mind, so many things swirling about in the vast lake of the mind. There were few concepts that managed to stay afloat, not long enough to give itself some type of foundation. The little idea saw another concept that it recognized. It stayed at the edge of the mind, idly looking between the expansive waters of the mind and the shore that it stood on. The little idea sighed at the worn down concept. It had been a real possibility. The creator had spent so much time with it; developed well past the point of an outline, yet still pushed to the back of the creator’s mind.
The little idea proceeded further on the piece of driftwood without a plan, at least not by itself. But as the days passed, the little idea could feel a fullness, substance. The little idea grew in size, yet never sank in the vastness of the mind. It made it to the shore, carefully getting off of the piece of driftwood. It pushed it away, back to where it had come from so long ago. It let out a breath, hoping that the worn out concept that it had drifted by before could get it and make use of it.
The little idea could feel itself move through the hand of the creator, the ink of the pen bleeding into the paper. It only hoped that all that time adrift on the worn out plank would result in more than just an unfinished outline.
This is just a little creative piece that I wanted to write to personify the ideas I have and what normally happens with them.