Me, My Newspaper and the Day That Wasn't There
Saturday morning. Imagine a young woman with long brownish hair and a face that tells she is still a bit drowsy, sitting at the breakfast table, sipping her coffee from a hunge Simpsons mug, smiling at the orange-freckled cocker spaniel resting beside her feet.
The woman's eyes finally turn away from the spaniel. Through the green mass of branches and leaves growing in front of her kitchen window, she can see the shadow of the aproaching newspaper boy. There's a short metallic noice, followed by the rustling sound of the Rheinische Post 's voluminous weekend edition being stuffed into a tube-shaped mailbox. So the woman gets up from her chair, slouches towards the door and takes in the one thing she has already been waiting for: her friendly neighbourhood conservative newspaper.
Her long-running love-hate relationship with the RP is a complex one. In her part of the world, it's the only regional newspaper with a sufficient coverage of local and cultural events, so she's willing to ignore the strong right-wing undercurrent running smoothly below the well-prased, well-to-do surface of fake objectivity.
Today's frontpage sports the most unfavourable picture of John Kerry the editors could possibly have come up with (Kerry's left eye is oddly squinting, almost as if he was experiencing a seizure). "Thank you very much, guys", the woman with the long brown hair and the Simpsons mug sighs annoyed. Then she starts browsing the headlines.
Turning to page 2, she notices the date printed on the newspaper's upper left corner. The 31st of July. For about 20 seconds she stares at the date in utter disbelief. Somehow she had been perfectly convinced that July was one of the year's shorter months with only 30 days instead of 31.
So, in a certain sense, she is now in possession of a whole new additional day she had not expected, sunny and cheerful, lying in front of her, waiting to be filled with various kinds of chores and activities. An amazing chance to finally catch up to with the rest of the 'verse and to finish all the stuff she had originally planned to have finished by yesterday.
She smiles and just for the fun of it she grants herself the luxury of typing a completely senseless entry for her LJ *g*
The woman's eyes finally turn away from the spaniel. Through the green mass of branches and leaves growing in front of her kitchen window, she can see the shadow of the aproaching newspaper boy. There's a short metallic noice, followed by the rustling sound of the Rheinische Post 's voluminous weekend edition being stuffed into a tube-shaped mailbox. So the woman gets up from her chair, slouches towards the door and takes in the one thing she has already been waiting for: her friendly neighbourhood conservative newspaper.
Her long-running love-hate relationship with the RP is a complex one. In her part of the world, it's the only regional newspaper with a sufficient coverage of local and cultural events, so she's willing to ignore the strong right-wing undercurrent running smoothly below the well-prased, well-to-do surface of fake objectivity.
Today's frontpage sports the most unfavourable picture of John Kerry the editors could possibly have come up with (Kerry's left eye is oddly squinting, almost as if he was experiencing a seizure). "Thank you very much, guys", the woman with the long brown hair and the Simpsons mug sighs annoyed. Then she starts browsing the headlines.
Turning to page 2, she notices the date printed on the newspaper's upper left corner. The 31st of July. For about 20 seconds she stares at the date in utter disbelief. Somehow she had been perfectly convinced that July was one of the year's shorter months with only 30 days instead of 31.
So, in a certain sense, she is now in possession of a whole new additional day she had not expected, sunny and cheerful, lying in front of her, waiting to be filled with various kinds of chores and activities. An amazing chance to finally catch up to with the rest of the 'verse and to finish all the stuff she had originally planned to have finished by yesterday.
She smiles and just for the fun of it she grants herself the luxury of typing a completely senseless entry for her LJ *g*