My Room.

2003-03-11 - 8:04 a.m.

The future I want to see:

It all comes down to one room, in a house, somewhere North of the 49th Parallel.

This room has books. And more books. And more books. Lining the walls, piled in corners, scattered on tables and armchairs.

There are wooden bookshelves, a tall-backed (wing-backed?) armchair, maybe a fern or two, and a window that looks out onto a forest, and maybe a stream. A heavy, wooden desk and a small, unassuming computer, and encyclopedias (<-I just tried to spell that word without any vowels.) within arm's reach.

I will sit at the desk, with papers and books and notes scattered around me, a manuscript on the screen in front of me, and my eyes pointed directly at the window for hours.

Outside of the room, there may be sounds of family: dog's feet on a wood floor, scampering cats heard from the second floor, maybe even kids fighting and Pookie cooking or dropping things. Bird song from outside, or the gentle patter of rain against the window. Maybe the sound of Northern Atlantic surf.

That is the best future I can think of, and the idea gives me hope, no matter where I am.

Cheers,

The Magus

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