My laptop died today! I can’t believe it. I was so prepared in every way to sit and conjure many thoughts to put to keyboard. I even had a quirky idea.
I found a cold bottle of water and a peach yogurt for physical sustenance. I opened the window for fresh inspiration, and seated myself. I pressed the little power button.
That power button is my transportation from one realm to the next. I can flee from the here and now, into the future hopes of life, or into the saddest parts of the past. I can leap from thought to thought without any plan of an end.
Today I pushed the power button and heard that familiar ‘whoosh’ of the power and all things coming alive, only to be followed by an irritating ‘mneep’.
I tried again.
I tried to push again with illogical hope that this time I would succeed. I found myself hoping and yearning for the lap top to make it. I doubled my efforts at electronic CPR, one, one thousand, two one thousand…
I could not go on. The loss of my laptop is such a sad situation indeed. I closed the lid and slid it into its carrying case, much like a body laid to rest until its hopeful resurrection by a trained technician. If only it would speak to me again.
So today I am lamenting the denial of access of the free world of my imagination with the gentle blinking of the cursor line and the pitter-patter of keystrokes like a refreshing summer rain.
I remember that this blinking cursor is an invitation to begin, a loving whisper from my laptop that it is now time. Each thought is important as it is committed to the page. All has value when written in a logical order.
The ‘save’ button subliminally encourages the next step of committal. I pause before solidifying my thoughts and press ‘save’ to forever cause them to be relieved from a future in the recycle bin.
My laptop, so kind to me at this point, understands I am human and it is not. Yet my laptop is forgiving and has once again given to me a way out. The edit button, an eternal icon for second chances of a lifetime of mistakes, is a chance to pursue perfection.
The final goal, the final destination: “Publish.”
My lap top is always ready without nagging or relentlessly pushing, however, not today.
“Wait!” I whisper aloud. A round slender, blue object fits perfectly in a tri-fingered grip. My pen beckons me as it’s coach to let it play. I slowly pick it up, scribble an ink test and I begin.
My laptop died today…