fiction, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

Of opportunipees and slabadinks — ‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe’

It was one of those days when you wake up feeling so clever because a unique word came to you in the middle of the night — opportunipee.

And you wrote it down. In a notebook. In the dark.

And it was legible.

A Jabberwokian euphoria fills your pores.

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