Prose, photography, and a few drawings.
Facebook ProfileI don’t remember when I got into the habit of it. I just remember realising one morning, as I sipped my tea and ate my breakfast, that reading my Facebook profile was as much a part of my morning routine as brushing my teeth.Facebook Profile by `PlasticusForkus
It was the first thing I did when I got home from work too, and the last thing before going to bed. Whether I had messages or not didn’t matter, I always read my profile; my activities, my favourite books, what I’d written in the About Me section.
Was it vanity? I don’t think so; I got no narcissistic pleasure from it. The thought occurred to me that I was reminding myself who I am. I laughed the thought away.
In a funny moment last night I edited my profile, and removed my date of birth.
This morning, I discovered I can’t remember how old I am.
Virgin Atlantic flight 220Virgin Atlantic flight 220 by `PlasticusForkus
Virgin Atlantic flight 220
The flight from Dulles International Airport, Virginia, USA, to Heathrow International Airport, London, UK, takes about eight hours. For those eight hours the passengers, except for those who can afford the extortionate in-flight phone calls, are cocooned, cut off from the outside world. In those eight hours, the lives of 382 passengers and crew of flight VA220 would be changed forever.
However, during the flight almost no-one on the plane would be aware of the change in their fates. The first to get any clue of something amiss would be the pilots. They would discover that their communications had failed. In actuality, their communications would be working perfectly, but there was no-one on terra firma to receive their messages.
The rest of us would find out approximately five minutes before touchdown, when the captain would inform us that we had no communications. What he didn't say was the radar appeared to be playing up too. Above the busiest ai
|These deviations are what I regard to be the best of my writing.|