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Colonizing Time

- vz - Friday, May 6th, 2005 : goo

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I am seated at one of a dozen or so outdoor tables on a lovely little square at a busy city intersection, and occasionally glance up absentmindedly to take in the scenery around me. I'm eating a continental breakfast: orange juice, coffee, bagel. I have two textbooks in front of me, and numerous pages of notes; once in a while I page back and forth through the former or scribble something in the latter.

There is only one unusual fact about my presence here: it is 2:45 in the morning. the streets around me are dead, the cafes and bookstore adjoining the square darkened and lifeless, and I am the only occupant of the outdoor tables; which one I sit at is not dictated by which one has a vacancy, but is a matter of whim. Night shift maintenance workers at the other end of the block look over at me with suspiscion. A couple of drunk kids passing by do the same. But what's so out of the ordinary about what I'm doing? Plenty of people do the exact same thing, in the exact same place, every day. Only with a shift of 12 hours.

Those hours, they are split by the many; in vying for a share of them, I am but one body in a queue of thousands and the queue stretches for blocks so that being as far back as I am I can't even see the counter where I hope to trade in my ration stamps. But these hours, these hours are mine for the taking.

This article has been viewed 2021 times in the last 3 years


elaine: likey. very spare. good

Peter: 6th May 2005 - 14:21 GMT

how pleasant... also: i like how the past few entries have been text... good reading to start my day.

elaine: 6th May 2005 - 14:23 GMT

i could not do pictures. i took my camera - no memory card. i got to the dentiss, 24 hours late. that's the second time this week. there is something awry. 24 hours is less weird than 12, though

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