( 7 votes, average: 3.71 / 5 )
Loading ...I slide in the key. I open an envelope. Am I tired? I sit down on red faux-velvet and can hear a not-distant clarinet. My first thought is not food, nor the drink of which I will partake at 1826 hrs. My first thought is not even the tired sinew in my toe, but email and internet. I reach into my Brenthaven case (may the great white spirit forgive me for knowing a brand-name), and pull out the computer. I open the computer and find that I have received one email in the past 45 minutes. I checked email just before leaving my office for the bus-stop. [The central heating has now started. Please bear in mind that it is still winter. The blackbirds have started singing, but only at sunset and before dawn, as is appropriate. [I know you are asking why I am writing this.]] And so I see that I check email in an addictive manner; what do I hope to read? (Have you read Lovelock’s new book about Gaia’s Revenge?) The email I have received is mundane, even though the lecture I have just delivered was an attack on the banal. [I know you are now asking why somone who has just attacked banality would write something so banal. Please bear in mind that it is still winter.] I then open Safari, not for zebras, but for The Neocrats. I click on ’site admin’ and within seconds I am beginning to type. I realise that I have to leave the house in fifteen minutes [now you start to realise why I am writing this] and that I must speak to Lahut before I leave. Yes, I arrive and then leave. What shall I write about? Of course, how about a self-reflexive rhapsody on recent short-term memories? I could describe how I come in, check the post, sit down and start to write at random as I wait for Lahut! This is a revelation. And then I type, ‘I slide in the key.’ And then I remember that I checked the post, ‘I open an envelope.’ And as I write this again I remember that it was a brown envelope. I then sat down, ‘I sit down on red faux-velvet,’ and listen to the strains of a strained, straining clarinet lesson.
Bookmark: 
i am moved to the core.