Bricks. Simple, solid, humble. Like cells, like atoms. Like letters of the alphabet, or the digits from 0 to 9. A dictionary is a storehouse of language bricks, a quarry; take what you need to build your story. Can be arranged in so may ways. Stack them, stick them together, create a whole greater than the sum. There is so much latent in a pile of bricks; unwritten potential, untold disaster.
Will this pile of bricks be a shelter or a wall? Something there is that doesn’t love a wall. The walls go up, the walls come down. The bricks stay the same – like atoms, like letters. It’s all in how you put them together.
