For me writing is a compulsion and my mind is a seething morass of thoughtful maggots. I have tried, on many occasions, to train them to behave, to sit still and wait their turn, but I am a poor maggot tamer. They all appear to gain far too much entertainment from wriggling about and biting each other in the behind. Some of the larger maggots have now hatched and become the basis of the various novels I am drafting here on Inkshares. But what to do with the rest?
I recently visited a butterfly farm. It was a wonderful experience so many gay and delightful creatures fluttering about. Then in one corner I saw a small glass cabinet. Inside, a string was stretched and along the string hung 50 or more chrysalises. Each one represented a caterpillar that was trying to become a butterfly. I was inspired.
’Scratchlings’ is my attempt at a chrysalis nursery. Each little maggot is going to be pulled from my head and clothes-pegged onto a washing line in the fresh air. Then it is simply a case of waiting. Either they choose to pupate or the birds get them!
I hope you enjoy visiting my maggot nursery, and perhaps eating your fill as necessary.