A message comes up on my screen. Tells me by clicking ‘OK’, I agree to age at a rate of one year per second.
I click ‘OK’. Whatever happens will give me something to write about.
I was eight years old when the message came up. Now I’m fifteen, seventeen… nineteen.
I wanted to write about sharks, then space, then excess, young love… fading youth.
I’m forty-six now. 48. 49.
I take a few moments, to reminisce about my joints not creaking so much.
I just turned eighty. These words are all I have to offer.
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