A Literary Conundrum
It is only in a year when a giraffe walks down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan that a seriophyte can be born. And if the giraffe walks down Fifth Avenue during the month of their birth then they can reach the exulted plateau of a hexa-seriophyte.
Under these circumstances seriophytes are extremely rare and hexa-seriophytes are almost non-existent.
I must have been born and lived a charmed life to actually have known a hexa-seriophyte for, in all of recorded history, there have only been eleven hexa-seriophytes known to have been born.
One of the amazing facts about hexa-seriophytes, and in fact all seriophytes, is that they are able to not only predict the future, but simultaneously envision the future and experience deja-vu in multiples planes of consciousness and thereby coalesce a time continuum into a tangible sense of reality and thus, when paid a princely sum in Fig Newtons, will pass along anything that might be considered useful to the beholder, but not necessarily of any consequence to the general populace of the earth.
It is thus that I asked my friend, the hexa-seriophyte, to tell me about the future of my next literary project. This would not normally be considered anything extraordinary, but as I wanted to try something that I had never heard of being done before, actually writing and publishing a book backwards, if anyone would understand it. Of course I realized that the reader could simply read my backward book backward so I had decided to build into every copy a failsafe lock that would not allow that to happen and the reader would be forced to read the book backward – singular.
My hexa-seriophyte friend thought about it for several minutes, weighed all of the variables by using a series of deja-vu permutations known only to hexa-seriophytes, which would then unlock the seventeenth dimension on a quantum path to the hierarchy of alphism and thereby lead me to the true reality I sought.
I waited, not patiently, I admit, and finally my hexa-seriophyte friend gave me the answer in the form of a written report. Now my problem was that it was not only backward, but upside down and inside out and was seven-thousand-six-hundred-eighteen pages long.
I gave up the idea and decided that the best thing to do under the circumstances was to take a nap.