The best thing about being old, and this was something that had taken him a long time to realize, was that stuff didn’t matter anymore. Yes, he could make it matter, but he knew that he was doing so and just as easily he could drop it.
If he wanted to talk
to himself he dam well would.
Only, and he realized
this at the same time he thought it, “ I don’t want to.”
And that is why at 4.
am, under a full moon, he unwrapped the computer that had sat in it’s packaging
waiting patiently for the witching hour and an inescapable need to coexist.
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