December 2048

December rumbles on. Up the slope toward Christmas, an ungainly, lumbering beast. Time becomes split into lumpen blocks; work, home, sleep, Western Road. Waking in the ice-blue gloom of pre 7am. Dread at the thought of the alarm going off.
I dreamt last night of an unsafe bridge over a sunny canal. Walking over the steep slope of the bridge, being afraid I would fall.
A year ago today I was writing about the eeriest part of a winters day a title I had surreptitiously stolen from a line in Suzannah Clarke's 'Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell'.
A year ago.
I am finding the constant acceleration of time to be an increasingly disturbing concept. I was still working at Telegen, and had just moved in here. I can't believe I've been living in the bedsit a year now... though it seems far too long ago I was living anywhere else.
I haven't been very inspired lately to write these tales from bridge 39. The creative drought continues it seems, though I'm sure all get back into it in the new year. Well, I hope so anyway. tides and cycles, patterns and rhythms. I wonder what I'll think of these less than imaginative posts in years to come? this question leads to other thoughts; when will the last post in Bridge 39 be?
I have no intention of stopping, but, at some point, inevitably, Bridge 39 will cease... Will it just fade out like a television series past its glory seasons - like Doctor Who in the late 1980s or will there be some grand finale that ties up all the loose ends and various plot threads, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer?
Hmm.
I've never thought about this before.
Another certainty in life.
Death, taxes and the end of blogs.
Anyhow, I shall end this cyber-maudlinity - I have absolutely no intention of ending Bridge 39 until I retire - I am quite intrigued by the thought of blogs that span a lifetime.
Imagine, I might be writing this when I am 76.
You know, now I've just written that, I now know (I have every intention of being) exactly what I'll be doing at 7:30pm on the 16th December 2048.
I'll be reading this, well, if access to 38 year old posts are still available.
Twice my lifetime so far.
Brr... Given myself the chills now.
I wonder if I'll leave myself a comment?