The clock was ticking. Soon it would be the present.
I woke to the BBC’s chatter. Something about trench warfare. I forget. Daylight Saving Time began this morning.
Two days ago, we’d returned from a trip to a town whose most distinguishing feature was the ease of leaving. A misadventure to unknown climes. Side-trips along the way made the journey worthwhile.
Before that, we’d had a brief class in cursive writing. (Well, more like, a brief talk.) Part of a pen fair.
(Does anyone use pens anymore? Alphabet blocks, pencil, fountain pen, ballpoint, typewriter, computer, virtual keyboard, stylus, voice dictation. Hands? Who needs pens?)
Now, I tried to recall my place. As if opening the book from the night before and retrieving the line of thought. Yes: that’s it. I’m here now.
It was an hour later than it had been at the same time the previous day.
As the coffee worked its magic, I began to write. It’s about time.
📑 technology, writing