In a way, the onslaught was thrilling: the brush and tickle of sinuous threads, the building momentum of sentences untrammeled by punctuation, the shuddering full stop at the end of the third sentence, the aftershock of fills that continued to a fourth or fifth – not to mention the repeated penetration of favored tropes.

The prompts would tire, eventually, leaving the inbox simultaneously replete and bereft. But for now, each chime heralded new words to be savored... new plots to be teased... new sentences to be stroked and stoked and gently-roughly-sweetly guided to the inevitable, ungrammatical conclusion: a single, pixel-perfect spot.