Out of Control

I started a tiny rumor.  The thing grew bigger and bigger until it morphed into a veritable colossus and next spread like wildfire, engulfing everything in its destructive path.  The rumor is not tiny anymore.  The wildfire it spawned has run amok and is now arrantly out of control; a pristine reputation has been destroyed in the process.  The only residua left behind in this conflagration’s wake are scorched earth, a desiccated relationship, and massive regrets.  That’s right, massive, MASSIVE regrets.  And all the result of just one tiny rumor I was responsible for starting with no forethought as to what its exponential consequences might turn out to be.  Words do indeed have consequences—sometimes dire consequences—even if they do not literally break bones.