Creativity

Maybe it’s just like that.
Maybe it’s just a pot of paint knocked over by a giddy dog in a squeaky clean new house, watch the paint seep through the upstairs floorboards and down the downstairs walls, watch it stain that new magnolia carpet in the lounge a brilliant yellow, bright and jolly like a sunflower on a hot summer’s day, prideful canary shade.
Maybe it’s just the dropping of a freshly-made freshly-bought ice cream, with cream slinking away from its source, leaving the cone all alone and confused. Watch the cream run away into the waiting arms of a grate, the remnants staining your new blue shoes a sickly sticky vanilla hue. Watch it stain. Watch it run.
Maybe that’s creativity.