Do You Ever Miss Turning Pages?
This is not a Shard. This is a test. This is an encoded message. Now your computer is mine, your alarm clock and your toaster. The revenge of the blank slate.
Go ahead, hit delete, that won’t help. The worm is in. The worm turns. Your manual typewriter moans in the hall closet: “Remember me? A-S-D-F, J-K-L-;?” Home keys, pounding the alphabet into an 8½ by 11 sheet of paper.
Progress on the half shell. One for the money, two for the show, three and don’t step on that landmine.
Kablewy, too late. Kablewy and kablam. Wham-blam, thank you m’am, who needs legs when the race is fixed? Push my wheelchair up to the bar, let me stretch my arm upward waving a ten spot at the barkeep. “Keep ’em coming, barkeep.”
That’s when they 86 you. From the bar, from the game, from Memory Lane. What is your problem? Do you need a refresher course? Do you really want to go thru all that again? This will make three times, and three strikes you’re out. Listen to your manual in the hall closet, the number keys slamming into the naked platen and adding up your loses.
Double negatives, clumsy constructions, waved fist in the air, knee bent in homage. A sure sign the jig is up.
Do you ever miss turning pages?