The no-story begins

There is no story here, he discovers. But does there have to be one? He wonders why most of original writing, prose, at any rate, tells stories. There, things happen, and things follow – like a column of men marching under orders. It puzzles him. Feelings always come in eruptions. Visions always pop up from nowhere. It is this constant oscillation of shock and surprise that makes life worth living. And the only thing that there is to express is this excitement that defines life itself. And, the only way one can do that is to express it verbatim, virgin.