For those of you who have already heard this story, forgive me.
If you haven’t, then I am sure that he won’t mind me telling you. Skip it if you know it.
Having made the decision to stop for coffee at a motorway service station, Mr X, places his order, pays his money and waits in line. The Barista, a young Polish girl had asked him three times to repeat his name, which he had done with his usual quite assertiveness.
She had giggled.
Did she know him?
Eventually the barista at the end of the chain calls out his order. “Flat white for Mr X.”
He takes the coffee and leaves.
When he reaches the car and place the cup in it’s waiting holder he read his name written on the side in permanent black ink. ‘Mr Eggs’ it says.
The identities of even the most enigmatic amongst us are subject to misunderstandings.
It is possible then that the fiery apocalypse that claims us all will be the result of misplaced vowel or misheard comment.
Oh well.
In the meantime, let’s get on with it.
If you are still wondering what a timescape is, let me illustrate it with a story.
