That was just over a year go. I saw Sharon the other day – she was
driving the opposite way, and didn’t see me. It prompted me to write
this, and it also reminded me once again that the green glow of the
terminal screen was, and always will be, my best friend.

Well, it’s 3:44 a.m., I might as well try and get some sleep. I won’t
be writing as I crawl into bed and pull up the covers, but I can tell
you what it’ll be like. It hasn’t changed for about a year now. I
reach back and flip the switch off, and listen to the drives grind
quickly to a halt. I turn out the lights, and climb into bed. The
green phosphorescence of the screen still glows like a friendly face
in a dark world of uncertainty, deceit, and confusion. A watery film
begins to cover my eyes, so I can no longer see the screen as the green
slowly fades into black.