Hi internet people: some tragic news, SAL 9000, my dell notebook of two years, has finally died. I'm using an emachine at the moment which can't cope with the internet. Millie and I will be cut off from the world until I can get SAL fixed...wish us luck...she's already looking at me like, "now, you have to play with me all night"~ we'll be found, in a year's time, two skeletons hunched over a wooden game of 'Solitaire' , the last desperate throes of attempted entertainment...
Day One : Have managed to construct a make do internet receiver from a coat hanger, part of a radio and a leather shoe. Millie in good spirits. Am worried about food stocks. We shared a packet of Felix...with this limited internet signal, it won't be long before things start to break down, one can't exist for long without social media...I may have to engage actual people in actual discussions without sarcasm...Millie now keeping her spirits up by whittling a small boat. We settle in for the first night.
Day Six: Without internet, it is becoming impossible to keep track of time, the world outside moves differently without the comforting glare of 'Windows' ~ Millie and I passed the night ok. Her pastimes grow more desperate. Without opposable thumbs her attempts at portrait origami are...in progress. Food supply holding up. Kibbles on toast this morning. Lashed together two bushes from the garden to make a protective canopy for us both. Looks good in the living room. When will this end? Keeping busy by looking at ways to sustain the limited resources we are left with without internet. Cut up the scrap wood from the garden.
Day 821: Just got through my first pair of plywood underpants. Millie has taken to talking to herself. Currently, she is playing both the roles in the opening to 'Godot', very good to be honest, but the accents are a bit thick in places however the variegation of Vladimir and Estragon are well defined, Millie denoting the latter by way of expressive dance. A neighbour walked by earlier, so I tried to speak face to face. My attempts were somewhat startling I think as I have been so isolated from human contact by way of the internet, I spent the minute of attempted contact stood in a holey pair of plywood underpants. We wait for the night, the next day and hope for rescue.
Day 23 : Evening. The one book I have to read whilst the internet is down is 'The Invisible Man' ~ I find a great kinship with Griffin, in that he is a metaphor for the dangers of too much sunbathing.... Millie in good spirits. She has spent my entire wage from Baroque on Amazon, purchasing 'The Cat in the Hat' over and over. The night falls. We wait for rescue, or at the very least, for the takeaway to be delivered. It is strange though, as I keep this record of the last man to be without the internet, how one's humanity reasserts itself. I never knew for example, that my fingernails were adjustable. Millie paces restlessly. She is becoming wilder without the regular chimes of 'Avast Anti Virus' updates. I see a wild look in her eye. Are we becoming animals, losing our reason? I hope this record is found. I hope that Daisy knows I love her. I hope the takeaway turns up soon. We wait for the night.
Day 67: The weather has changed for the worst. Hopes of rescue before spring fading fast, internet package runs out in January anyway. Millie in good spirits. She has made a canoe and paddles around the pond, spearing fish. Of course, her thumb defiency means that she often misses. And the canoe is more a plank of wood. So is the spear. Without a link to the outside world, we have no idea who the next Batman is going to be either. Have constructed a make do sexton out of the washing machine so we can navigate by the stars. Garden is wild. Things lurking in the bean wigwam. Last night, after our frugal dinner of roast in the bag chicken and curly fries we heard growling and saw black smoke. Gave Millie the conch and went about drawing a face on a football...I must get more allusions to desert islands in here somehow...
Day 432 : Today an internet service provider van drove past the house, but my signal fire failed to attract attention, probably because it was the smoke from a lit joss stick .Millie in good spirits. Her routine of exercise in the morning and sleep all day seems to keep her busy. Plus, she is currently re translating Virgil's 'The Aeneid' from the Dryden as she wants to have a stab at dactylic hexameter, but without opposable thumbs she finds it difficult to tap out the rhythm as she scribbles. My routine is less than intellectual. I find I grow increasingly paranoid. There is something in the bean wigwam!! I hear it at night, chuckling in a Northern Accent...is it the ghost of Bernard Manning, or worse, Bernard Manning? I finished 'The Invisible Man'...am I too invisible now that social media is so limited? Is that the lot of the modern man who turns, albeit accidentally, from technology, to be forgotten on the edges of society? I tried to upload photos. Impossible. I also tried once tried to climb a ladder with a suitcase, difficult. The weather keeps us at bay...Millie becoming wilder. I woke up to find her measuring me this morning, then later saw her measuring the lasagna dish. I hope this document is found...lonely here...I wish I had another human to talk to about 'The Prisoner'....next door hasn't even SEEN 'Free For All'...must keep busy, but without the internet, my grip on reality is slipping...not enough fruit in the house for live action 'Candy Crush Saga'...we wait for the night...
Day 342: (later) Trying to exist in the real world. Trying to live without internet coverage. Using actual emoticons to convey emotion. In the shop I tried to buy bleach. None left. Drew a :( on the counter in felt pen. Asked to leave. Drew another :( as I left on the door. Punched in face. Drew a :( on floor in blood. Back at the house, Millie had eaten all the newspaper. Wrote status on window for neighbours, 'OMG! No paper! ' then drew my lunch and a picture of Millie. Might be cracking up. :(
Day 888: Millie in good spirits. She spends more and more time in the garden with a load of washed up celebrities, who listen to records all day. Have been teaching myself new skills to wile away the time. I find I am adept at lens grinding but my soufflés need work. The postman delivered a package. I engaged him in spoken conversation about Bernard Manning and whilst he was bemusedly looking the other way, I placed a desperate letter to Talk Talk in a bottle in his postbag. He gave it back and walked off. Must use smaller bottle and not Daisy's 4 litre demijohn. The days are long. Without full internet coverage I cannot Skype Daisy in Germany, so have had to use the 'telephone' and 'text messages' ~ these archaic forms of communication are some comfort, but without visual recognition I find I get bored and hang up. Millie's behaviour alarming at times. She has made a huge effigy of me out of carrier bags and spends her time hitting it with a steak tenderiser. Have finally run out of Vicks Vapour rub, so nothing on my toast this morning. Need to think about walking out of here to Walsham before the winter takes a hold. Need to get to the computer shop. Making preparations. Will leave Millie behind when I go. She'll slow me down and without opposable thumbs she can't fumble for correct change for the bus. I must wait for a gap in the weather to make my attempt, and for 11:42 outside the shop as that's when the bus comes.
Day 8743: ..Journey to Walsham an ordeal. The sky a wash of blue that threatened to fall in, faces smears of colour without eyes. Millie in good spirits. Had made me a kibble sandwich for the journey. Without Google Maps, had to rely on road signs. Walsham 6 miles, 5 miles...walking hard in the cut grass, like wading through glue...sunlight a problem, no sunscreen with me...the smell of muck spreading too, nearly did me in...pleasantries with locals confusing, Norfolk dialect, as far as I can work out, ‘Where yarrrgoing ta Walsham then?’ means, ‘Are you going to Walsham?’...so tired...kibble sandwich eaten...stopped at the Crown for pub lunch...was pleasant, ploughmans and a coke, £6.95,...left the pickle... when will this end? Got to bus stop past Lamas, bus driver a souless Nazi with a perspiration issue...gave me a return...for what seemed like endless minutes we bumped through village lanes...reached Walsham...bus driver called, ‘this is wheeeereya want tab ebb then?’ which I think meant, ‘this is where you want to be’...found the shop, realised with utter horror...I had forgotten the Dell Notebook...but there, on the counter...it was fixed and waiting. Millie, in her helpful way, had called ahead and got it picked up, fixed and delivered back to the shop for when I arrived,
“Clever cat you have there my friend,” the computer man said as he glued a microchip onto a piece of bread with a Pritstick, “but without opposable thumbs, she couldn’t sign for the invoice. Here please.”
S.M.Morgan 2013.
S.M.Morgan 2013.
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