The Last Furlong

Comments on the race of life.

Thanks for the memories

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Gosh, I had a dreadful night for coughing. Not coughing coughing, but for a tickly throat coughing – a tiny tickle-worm that bored into the back of my tonsil despite sleeping with fragments of Bronco Stop stuck to the roof of my mouth.

I eventually got up.

My bedside clock said 5:30. My wristwatch said 2:20.

They can’t both be right. But my tablet confirmed 5:30 and having nothing much else to do, I browsed it. I discovered I have ‘contacts’ on my tablet. I didn’t know. They are email contacts, new and also from a thousand years or so ago. Hundreds of them!

I’ve just been on a blast from the past!

I see I sorted many into groups. ‘Party invites’. ‘Petition’. ‘Xmas list’. ‘Village play’. ‘Computer classes’. ‘Friends’. ‘Aquaintances’.

Once, I was a busy person.

In the old email days.

Now I just use WhatsApp.

I’ve lost contact with those folk who don’t.

I found so many people in my email contacts lists, were dead. Dead, gone and buried.

Oh the nostalgia. It was almost too hard to bear.

I do hope to meet you all again on the flipside. It was good knowing you. We had fun.

Thanks for the memories.

Author: Elizabeth

I'm someone also pounding the Path, just like you.

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