Once upon a time, in a faraway place
deep within the waters of creation, a minuscule strand of RNA,
squiggly and wiggly, developed, looking for a home, a place of
comfort. It approached the closest pod, a cell, that accidentally
left a door open. Not wanting to be a bother, the RNA slipped inside
into
a closet, where it did what it had to
do, grow and become itself. Eventually it spread, splitting the
closet door, filling the entire pod with duplication. Scientists
worked twenty-five hours a day. Yes, twenty-five hours because time
had warped and days were longer to rid the interloper from
its home. Eventually, the answer was found. RNA strands were given
homes in dying cells that needed plumping up.
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