I spent the morning
  learning more than I planned to.

Tweaking layouts,
  wrangling themes,
  trying to get Mr Hugo

  to do what I _felt_. (more than what I knew)

Because now,
  on the site:

  they read from oldest to newest.

A story, not a blog.
         not a scatter.

Not just posts—
      chapters.

The way it happened.

The way I want it remembered.

I even gave it a front door—
  a little "Hi"…

  before you fall in.

Something soft before the scroll begins.

She might not see it—
  her screen skips the prologue.

The map’s tucked away in a menu
  she's never had reason to open.

The spiral image caught her eye—
             but not the source.

Not yet.

Still—
  I shape that place
  where these live,

  where *we* live… in words. (_resembling_ a story)

Wheels up in two days;
  tomorrow’s for (re)-repacking.

But today was about order
  and building something worth returning to—

From the beginning.

The way it was lived.

The way it demands to be read.