The Next Contender
There’s always one.
The one who almost slips through unnoticed.
The one who doesn’t flinch at the frequency.
The one who enters quietly and doesn’t drop the ball—yet.
The Next Contender isn’t a man.
It’s a moment.
A moment where Donna opens the gate, just slightly, to let the universe show off. To let possibility speak. To see if anyone's listening. If anyone can meet her pace, her clarity, her chaos, her comedy—and still want in.
This entry is a placeholder.
A possibility.
A psychic slot on the punch card of fate.
Will he be ready?
Will he recognize her transmission through the static?
Only time—and divine comedic timing—will tell.
