Your connection [encrypted] has sent you the following downloadable experiences:
1. Get out of bed unassisted *
2. Breathe unpolluted air **
3. Chew food ***
4. Stroke a living being ****
5. Experience the embrace of a past lover *****
6. Smell fresh bread ******
7. Hear your father/mother say the words you’ve always wanted to hear *******
* No extra installer needed
** Only works if your virus scanner is up to date
*** Install dentures plug-in if needed
**** After accepting the download, you can choose human or animal
***** Satisfaction not guaranteed
****** May contain traces of nuts and milk
******* No person received payment or anything of value, in exchange for their cooperation
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Somehow this poem was inspired by the prompt at napowrimo.net: to write an ode to life’s small pleasures. It made me think of a friend of mine who suffers from MND (ALS) who wrote these words this week, straight from the heart:
“I am locked in bed until I am rescued at seven you lucky bastards that don’t depend on others to move or drink.”
I’d sooner call her a hippy than a rebel riot, so you hopefully understand that her choice of words was a cry of frustration. I made me realise how many simple joys we don’t notice, because we think they are normal and will be there forever.
Unassorted stories 