And thus it slipped away

She had always thought herself in tune with the youngsters, ever updated about the what’s what in the new new. This had carried across time and media – phones, television, cell phones, computers, smart phones and so on. The key had been to simply surround herself with young ones and do as they did; easy enough for a teacher to do, once it got going. But now, she found herself stumped, utterly flummoxed, baffled as a scientist looking at a fragment of science news reporting. It was a small thing, yet it suggested a gap so profound as to be abyssal:


Sounds familiar

His feet ached. He had walked all day, following some vague instinct brought about through a particular shading in the early morning light; with certainty, he had felt that this was a day for walking, following the whims of winds and fancy. Some of the places he ended up he had seen before, some not; mostly, the seeing happened from a new angle, from the perspective of spatial relations newly uncovered

Alas, the abstract infinite wanderlust eventually gave way to the slightly more finite, concrete aching of feet. Seeking someplace to rest, he spotted a church with its doors open. Some sort of service seemed to be going on inside, propelling his mixture of curiosity and ache. Sneaking a seat in the back, he sat and let the choir wash over him

In his peculiar state, he felt connected to something. Suddenly, the world seemed slightly larger than it had just that morning

A hard day’s night

Today was A Day

Overslept? Did. Parking spot? Taken. Job application? Denied. Rain? Poured. Umbrella? Leaked. Friend request? Ignored. Borrowed VHS tape? Unrewound. Library book? Overdue. Important mail? Lost in transit. Date suggestion? Noped. Safety backup? Obsolete. Phone battery? Drained. That really good tweet? One fav. The attempted joeks? Flat. Notre Dame? Burned. Evening meal? Also burned. Relaxing computer game? Sudden unknown unspecified error

Aye, today was A Day

Suddenly, it happened. Ten kilos of unrelenting affection flomped atop our protagonist, purring with unprecedented vigor, as if to say: despair not, for there are still cats, right here, right now

The rarest of finds

He couldn’t believe his ears. Was this actually happening? Had he heard correctly? Was this the thing in itself, unabashed, without layers and layers of intermediaries? Was this the golden opportunity of a lifetime simply appearing, despite remaining elusive for so many years? Was this the end of the long search?

He knew he had to handle this carefully. One wrong move could squander the whole thing, leaving him back at square one again. Cautiously, as gently as possible, he phrased the question that would allow him to talk to an actual, real-life youtube commenter:

“So, how’s it going?”

You have but to ask

“Could you pass the salt?”

“Actually, I’d much rather you and I run away on a romantic escapade, eloping into days and nights of adventures unknown and probably best left untold. We could explore the world and get to know each other as we’ve never known anyone else before. Imagine – Paris, Rome, Prague, big cities and tiny villages, and trains and candle-lit dinners and possibly also the holding of hands in the moonlight”

“I mean, I’m down with it if you are”

“We should probably finish this meal first. But then, off we go”

“With a spring in our step”

The things that go to make up a life

It felt somber, being in the old family home. Somber, and heavy. Suddenly becoming a generation older was not on the agenda, but it happened anyway

Together, the siblings looked through all the old things. Most things they remembered from a childhood past, while some were new additions from a time after that. The sum total suggested a story of which they were sometimes a part, sometimes not. Photographs of them as kids – all those years ago – next to medicinal implements of unknown function

And boxes

They’d never known what was in them. Especially the ones with the strange locks on them. But if there ever was a time to find out, now would be it

Present tense

His was a life of burdens. Everything came to him as an additional entry on the to-do list, something that had to be managed, another ball to keep ajuggled. Finishing any one thing did not bring joy or satisfaction, only the minor relief of being ever so slightly less burdened. He did not look forward to anything, or aspire, or indeed think much about the future at all. His attention was ever on the immediate present, multitasking between what seemed to be ever renewed burdens. In a rare moment of quiet reflection, he concluded that successes fade while failures accumulate.