Phil the Post-it Note

There was a post it note named Phil. Phil had a terrible memory. All he would ever be able to remember was one thing, and he had no control over what it was he would remembered. Once Phil remembered something, he could never remember anything new again. It would be a moment as if the hand of god - or the person who owned the notepad - suddenly wrote something upon his mind. One day, Phil would be lying on a table, trying not to stick to strongly to a surface - you know, to keep his options open - when suddenly the pen would come.

From then on, Phil would never be able to remember anything new. If something new did enter into his mind, Phil knew from listening to the elder post it notes in the pad Many a day, things would be come confused, like lines of writing overlapping. Soon there would be too much, and the crumpling would occur. None of the other post it notes knew what it was like to crumple, just that one day you would either be whisked away to guard what they were inscribed to know or that they would be crumpled.

As a result, all post it notes lived in fear of being crumpled because one condition didn't sound like it would be too different a life- mostly just sticking to surfaces and rustling in breezes - while the other sounded vastly different.

Like all other post-it notes, Phil was afraid of change. His body spent such time at rest, only occasionally fluttering at the edge - crunched as he in the post-it note queue - and the concept of rapid and continued motion frightened Phil. He didn't know how he would regain control of his being once the crumpling began, and he - and the other post it notes - knew how ineffectual his one defence, the paper cut, could be. No one who lashed out at the mysterious force that crumpled ever came back a live.

To be continued...