binary parses
What is a picture worth - do you remember? How old we are now, you and I. If what is said is true though, with more absence our hearts have grown fonder still.
Here, a picture pleases all of the people, some of the time. Beneath superficial looks, different views unseen merge, their clamouring united, blindly marching.
Twenty years ago this silence fell, softly, transparent as the snow. No words described it. Nobody heard. Now in featureless faces, implacable eyes pass over lost souls; they may be drunk, shouting and angry, some may be crippled or mad. Out of place here, collateral damage is left out on the street.
Once a thronging town it seemed to me a microscopic London - but clean, and tidy. Now it is a Milton Keynes with environmental awards, clustered housing units sprouting from its old ruins and satellite warehouses serviced by bright eyed botniks.
In the age of plenty there's no money for the beggars, just empty cans in the trash. The lost souls drink the beer. The young, sealed behind their gorilla glass screens, their energy wasting, drink caffeine.
unsyncked xchange
Is this a normal conversation for you; social media focuses on those.
I am going to have porridge this morning. It's sunny. Winter is coming. The birds have become wary.
In the supermarket I saw my neighbour. We passed in an aisle. She did not see me, or did not want to. It's hard to tell the difference. People here see no distinction. I find it hard to comprehend.
She and I try to talk to each other. She bakes cookies. I think she is friendly and kind. She struggles to hear what I say. I cannot say what I want. It is awkward. Words don't come easily. I am embarrassed. I wonder what I mean.
It was rush hour. I waited for the bus, inside. There was a crowd. Children on phones sat on the benches, talking in telegrams, sheltering from the wind. It is like England. Only old people and farmers notice the weather.
I put on a new mask; it is awkward. Masks blind CCTV; I think mine has a pleasing pattern. I wonder what others think. I assumed my neighbour was waiting for the bus outside.
I made my way up the street. She was there. I walked past. She came to where I stood. I tried to talk. My mask was in the way, like an emoji. Old people don't use those. She showed me how she uses her scarf. I felt muffled.
It is a five minute walk to our apartments. They stand on top of a hill. We stopped several times. She talked. I tried. So did she. People are silenced by confusion. I nod and grunt encouragingly.
My neighbour is frail - physically. Her arthritis has improved a lot. She said she walks 2 km a day. I walk very little. The swimming pools closed. I swam in the lake. It is too cold now.
I want to learn to talk again. Perhaps I can speak in tongues. It's easier not being with people. There is nobody to miss.
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