Post by johnwatts05 on Feb 19, 2015 18:24:46 GMT
This must be fairly close to Kays challenge.It started life as a poem but lent itself more to short story format
Sheba
It's been a long day it seems, why do they think the IT utopia we are now supposed to be enjoying is so wonderful? Thank goodness that's my office attendance day for this week. But let's look on the bright side it's really hard to believe him when Grandpa tells us that when he was a lad he sometimes worked five days a week, and for seven hours every day ! Imagine that! It makes one realise just how much the world has changed in the last 200 years. Count your blessings he says and I must say I do enjoy the intellectual stimulus of designing new theoretical circuits for the Watts-Higgs Accelerator. Who could possibly have imagined the possibility of Tachyon transfer. It is all so wonderfully fascinating, I often wonder,where will it all end ? Within all this modern wonder it is easy to forget he old natural world of our forebears but if we are to remain truly human we must retain the ancients interaction with the living world about us. So Edna next door has pet tortoises and Ben below has tamed a wild pigeon to eat from his hand, I of course have Sheba.
I send a tweet to George “Home in eight minutes”
As my door opens to me Sheba runs up and we greet each other . she arches her back and purrs with delight, big eyes adoring me as I stroke her silky coat. I call for George and he glides in with food; presenting Cat pills for me and toast for Sheba. I’ve tried reprogramming him but he still gets it wrong We slump on the sofa and I check my wrist News -TV. --another teleporting failure. Mars still wants more settlers. Can England retain the World Cup?
Does any of this matter, at 97 I’m long past such complications
I lift feet for the tortoise cleaner which Sheba bats playfully. I often think Tech-progress has gone too far. Someone was saying today at mid-meal when talking of modern ennui, that it would give us a new focus on life if we took over the insignificant chores that were daily a significant part of our ancestors lives. We all laughed , but then I thought perhaps that might be true in a bizarre way.
Sheba would agree she distrusts all modern gadgets. We would survive I'm sure as long as we have each other. She jumps up into my lap requiring and accepting more immediate attention. We tune to the local Out-TV and watch the school kids flying home on wing-scooters. The Evening closes in as we muse in mutual contentment, although with the new Solar mirror arrays it is still relatively light. Now it seems that we shall never again glimpse Grandpa's stars he so likes to rave about.
At last it s time to leave, she always seems to know that on Fridays I go to Australia though I'm invariably back before she wakes , She does not approve though, so I have to make an extra fuss of her and promise her Fish for breakfast. George will look after her tonight, special priority endorsement makes certain he gets that right . She will get her pills and milk. He will tuck her up cosily at ten -then switch her to stand-by mode.
Sheba
It's been a long day it seems, why do they think the IT utopia we are now supposed to be enjoying is so wonderful? Thank goodness that's my office attendance day for this week. But let's look on the bright side it's really hard to believe him when Grandpa tells us that when he was a lad he sometimes worked five days a week, and for seven hours every day ! Imagine that! It makes one realise just how much the world has changed in the last 200 years. Count your blessings he says and I must say I do enjoy the intellectual stimulus of designing new theoretical circuits for the Watts-Higgs Accelerator. Who could possibly have imagined the possibility of Tachyon transfer. It is all so wonderfully fascinating, I often wonder,where will it all end ? Within all this modern wonder it is easy to forget he old natural world of our forebears but if we are to remain truly human we must retain the ancients interaction with the living world about us. So Edna next door has pet tortoises and Ben below has tamed a wild pigeon to eat from his hand, I of course have Sheba.
I send a tweet to George “Home in eight minutes”
As my door opens to me Sheba runs up and we greet each other . she arches her back and purrs with delight, big eyes adoring me as I stroke her silky coat. I call for George and he glides in with food; presenting Cat pills for me and toast for Sheba. I’ve tried reprogramming him but he still gets it wrong We slump on the sofa and I check my wrist News -TV. --another teleporting failure. Mars still wants more settlers. Can England retain the World Cup?
Does any of this matter, at 97 I’m long past such complications
I lift feet for the tortoise cleaner which Sheba bats playfully. I often think Tech-progress has gone too far. Someone was saying today at mid-meal when talking of modern ennui, that it would give us a new focus on life if we took over the insignificant chores that were daily a significant part of our ancestors lives. We all laughed , but then I thought perhaps that might be true in a bizarre way.
Sheba would agree she distrusts all modern gadgets. We would survive I'm sure as long as we have each other. She jumps up into my lap requiring and accepting more immediate attention. We tune to the local Out-TV and watch the school kids flying home on wing-scooters. The Evening closes in as we muse in mutual contentment, although with the new Solar mirror arrays it is still relatively light. Now it seems that we shall never again glimpse Grandpa's stars he so likes to rave about.
At last it s time to leave, she always seems to know that on Fridays I go to Australia though I'm invariably back before she wakes , She does not approve though, so I have to make an extra fuss of her and promise her Fish for breakfast. George will look after her tonight, special priority endorsement makes certain he gets that right . She will get her pills and milk. He will tuck her up cosily at ten -then switch her to stand-by mode.
