A Box Of New Dimensions
This is by choice
This is my journey
This is not actual space travel with limited oxygen
Time is finite for people so get on with it
Remember why you started.
Not beautifully phrased but workable. This new machine that I have unpackaged, plugged in, lumped a load of untidy files onto is a continuation of a choice made on how I would spend my time on this planet. It’s not about looking pretty, although it is silver and sleek and coincidentally Girl has revamped my hair this week and the wild strawberries have reflowered. They are wild first, strawberries second: they do not wilt in this early autumn heat nor will they fail in hail.
Empty boxes scatter the office: berry stained tubs line up by the hosepipe: upstairs storage boxes wedge and trip us up. The Chap is leaving home to follow his dreams in four days time. Preparations fluctuate and are frequently interrupted:
Is this worth keeping
I have no idea
This would be useful for.
Out in the lanes blackberry stems bend with gleaming weights of fruit: autumn starts cute as a vintage tea cup, in spite of the brave new world vacillations. Prettiness, toughness, abundance; we hope The Future World has all of this.