The Whispering Wall

"THE MODERN MAN: I was brushing my teeth when the power went down. You cannot prepare for that, the electric toothbrush just ceased functioning and I did not know what to do. Sure, I tried a manual spin in my mouth, but it was far too early for that and my fingers were not fast enough. I grabbed the soap with both hands and bit, as if it was a burger. Alas, it was disgusting and pointless as the essence of last nights excesses was still there. Decided upon a strong coffee, something to disguise that lingering taste. Of course the coffee machine was dead. It may sound kind of pathetic, but it seemed to be the right time to call the housekeeper on my mobile as I confess I had no idea of how to change a fuse. The message said: "Battery empty, please recharge." I just had to get out of that apartment right away. I punched in the exit code five, six, seven times but nothing happened. Found myself pounding, just pounding on that reinforced, heavily padded, soundproofed front door of mine wondering if it was just me. It was. I found out at around 9pm that I was not alone in my dilemma when the first light went on in the great glass tower across the divide. 9pm. Monday. Normally the time to switch off that computer order in a Malay Kofta, some samosas, a carton of wine... normally, time to put my feet up and read a good book because I firmly believe that technology is not everything. Instead, I found myself scurrying around the apartment on borrowed illumination. Found half of a packet of crackers left by my last girlfriend a few weeks ago. I ate them slowly. Of course I slept badly. I mark the days much like a castaway on a raft in the open sea... little blue lines on the wall with that old ballpoint pen. Sadly, it is running dry. Even so, I have given up the shouting, the pummeling, because it is pointless. I even tried to establish a routine: I tidy up the place daily with my bare hands, but I imagine it will not be long now. The last thing I did before the power went down was to command the bank to make all of my regular payments automatic. They will not come looking for me; and, as I am reasonably wealthy, I will not be saved by the bill. Hope you appreciate the humour at such a seemingly desperate moment. Lately, I have been wondering if my networking friends will miss me, but I doubt it. Oh, I am decent enough company, good for the odd inspired one liner. I am amusing, but hardly essential. I know what you are thinking, and I agree it looks bad. However, do not worry about me. Nobody lives forever and I have accepted my fate. Besides, I have a shelf packed with good books. THE END."