April, come she will . . .

Michael  Butterworth
offers us
Excerpts from

My Servant the Wind:
A Diary of the New Wave

May 30th 2030

He is netting only fragments. In frustration he tries harder, becoming more confident with each attempt. Once 'arrived' here, he even attempts to 'think back' to pre-atomic conditions, like I spend so much of my time doing in reality now. Clawed from the future, these pieces eerily correspond to my present-day reveries - when he, the wind, allows me them.

[Non-Textual Insertion: My typing skills have declined so much that I needed about an hour to copy the above excerpt through typing it, which is why I don't quote as much as I used to, though I enjoy the excerpt, which tells me that it's from the future, and that bit of information problematizes the chronology somewhat for me, as I'd thought that the past [1971] was, in effect, our present, and that we were receiving fragments from the future [2030]. {Update: In the light of day, I'm not sure what I meant last night, except perhaps that 2030 seems not to be a mere fragment from the future.} Things also to know: The entries fall into Column A or Column B, which also happen to overlap, spatially, though not in the same space at the same time. The 'story' is a post-apocalyptic one, and though it jumps back and forth in time, from before and after the apocalypse, the reader soon adjusts and follows through. Highly recommended reading.]