Marketers and mavens like to say that websites are living, breathing things, that they need to be fed and exercised, nurtured and loved, or they’ll die. And die they do.

But if a website ends as a living creature ends, does it begin the way a living creature begins? Can it be from its mother’s womb untimely ripped? Does it follow older, bigger websites around, hiding under their wings, suckling on their teats, emulating their movements? Is it cast out of the nest, alone, to fend for itself, vulnerable to jackals? Or does it incubate for a time, exposed to the world but still protean, its genetic plan wrapped in a fragile vault, seen alternately as food, as fuel, as life?

Revolving Floor is born.

How do you like your eggs?