Not the End of the Word


My laptop seems to have died this morning, so it’s very unlikely that I’ll post anything by midnight Sunday. I think my eMate still works, so I’ll type something up on that (for a writer, I don’t much like writing) but it can’t connect to the internet. I believe I still have the dongle and the software necessary to connect it to a modern Mac, but even with that I don’t think I can transfer notes from it, so everything will eventually have to be retyped, just as if I’d handwritten it the old-fashioned way on my Newton MessagePad (or paper, I suppose.) Still, typing something twice is easier than handwriting it and then typing it. If it were a poem, I’d have no problem with handwriting it, but I promised somebody I’d write a story this week. You know who you are. It’s all your fault.

I do not feel inclined to sit at work or in an internet café late on Sunday night when there will no buses to get me home, so you’re just going to have to trust me that I finished it on time, or trust that I didn’t twiddle the date stamps when taking a photo of the completed work just before midnight. Or you could just give me a break, I’m in mourning for a Mac here.

Right… now to come up with a plot.

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