Sunday, August 07, 2011

and it is strange, really, that as our lifestyle meanders further and further into the realm of technologically influenced alienation, we yearn ever more deeply for human contact. Now, when you walk into the supermarket, you do not need to share a word or even a glance with another being - a circuit of the shelves, pickup a newspaper and your daily bread, and then to the self service tills. Small talk replaced with the gentle click-hum-whir of progress. Step out into the still summer night, and the two drunks seated besides the cash machine are calmer than usual. The Irish girl, who is often distressed, sometimes angry, has a softness in her eyes today, even a warmth. She asks if you are alright and you say yes, and smile, and keep walking

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