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A thousand miles/years/incarnations ago

I was having a lovely, peaceful afternoon, sitting at the computer drawing a sheep (as you do), when I heard the rhythmic guk-guk-guk which means a cat is fixing to unload a steaming cargo of rabbit flavored Whiskas somewhere nigh. Like, on my desk.

We did that furious pas de deux cats and people always do, where I grab up my stuff and try to maneuver something expendable into her sweet spot, and she brushes me aside and aims wildly for the most expensive, inappropriate object she can find to hack up all over or into. The mouse, the keyboard, the tablet, my lap.

At last, I caught the whole barfload on a notepad and held it aloft triumphantly, like Shoney’s Big Boy. Thank god it’s trash night.

She had sullied the back of one of my best gridded engineering pads from the old days, and I had all kinds of recent notes in it, so I tore away the cardboard and kept the pages. And there on the inside back was this post-it note.

Sandy was a typesetter I worked with, who’s been dead and buried for…oh, fifteen years, at least. 00005307 was a database designation for a technical illustration that I must have been drawing or inserting into a document or something. A pristine fragment of a whole nother universe floating down onto my desk, right out of sweet fuck-all.

Oh, well. It’s like trying to describe a dream, I guess.

February 15, 2010 — 6:15 pm
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