It’s a Thursday in the year 2009. Who would have thought it would ever be the year 2009? And yet here you are, sitting in front of a glowing screen, reading about your future, when you already live in the future. This time twenty years ago (if you were alive that long ago), you may have tried to imagine what your day would be like, on just such a Thursday. Maybe you were going to be wearing light aluminium wings, your feet never touching the ground until bedtime. Maybe you imagined yourself signing letters with a nod of your head in the general direction of the intended correspondent, the imprint of your personality reaching them across the ether through the merest of gestures from your head. Maybe you saw yourself drinking coffee looking over the sea, things being little different to how they were in the year 1989 except for the numbers on the calendar and the greyness in your hair.
Today will be none of these. Today will be all of them. Come on now, and fly with me. My wings are the ones with the pink sequins on the outer edge. I know that’s not good for the laminar flow, but it’s good for my soul.