peachpenumbra@googlemail.com
07/06/10
As the screen faded and the lights rose, and I could once again make out my form among the ranks of seats and bodies, I found myself regretting the speed of the passage of time, the way in which we cannot always find ourselves in the middle of things. The anticipation of future misfortunes and happinesses and the imperceptible distances separating them placed me suddenly on the bottom rung of a high ladder, the next step as yet unknown. 70 years of fictional existence had just been compressed into two idle hours of my own, and I felt the discrepancy sorely.
