A New Year

The new year has come – a brand new three hundred and sixty five days. My master, Hugo Pebberdash, travels through the year the same as everyone else.

In seconds.

In minutes.

In hours.

In days.

But he is different from everyone else. He spends the year with me.

In letters.

In words.

In sentences.

In wonderful stories.

All written across my glowing screen.

But when the world’s blares and flares become too much for him, he travels away from it all.

Sometimes to the quiet past.

Sometimes to the silent future.

But he always brings me along.

And together we write.

This past year has been a bad one. Too many reasons and excuses and distractions have kept us apart. His fingers have not touched my keys for three hundred and sixty five days.

And I miss it.

But he is here now. And he speaks to me.

“I’m sorry.” He gently brushes the dust off my black screen. “It’s been a long, miserable year. Responsibilities. Job. Family. New lives. Old deaths. But I’m here now.” He presses my on button. “I’m ready to write.”

So am I.

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