Moves
Typing at my computer I glance down at the mouse I’m holding. I should get a better one. Something ergonomic, more precise. I think back to the ones I use to have. One stands out. A large expensive trackball, smooth as silk, precise. So what happened to it?
Moving house - it got mixed up in a box marked ‘give away’.
So many moves, so many restarts.
I count them.
I shake my head in disbelief.
That can’t be right. I start counting again.
Thirty two moves!
So that’s why I’ve no friends. I stare at the mouse under my hand. I think of people close to me. Some could become friends.
I just couldn’t take another move.