Lost in Time
by Leslie Noyes
We scarcely notice the low-flying pterodactyls skimming inches above the trees nowadays.
Likewise, the roar of Tyrannosaurus Rex barely registers in our collective consciousness.
But we’ve begun to feel a change in the climate, colder winters, hotter summers, raging storms year ’round,
And the drums of war are heard pounding across oceans, and from our own great shores destruction rains down.
What have we lost in time? Our connections were severed when we fell through this warp in the universe.
Survival first, right? Despite the despot in the tree fort, we will carry on, only later to discover what we’ve lost.

You too? I was writing about the need for a time machine just the other day and commenting to someone a few minutes ago that I feel I’m caught in an episode of The Twilight Zone. Everything looks normal but isn’t. Some weird alternate reality where common sense doesn’t exist. And those who like it keep saying everything’s going to be fine if we get onboard. I just can’t. Resistance is not futile. I have to believe that. And act on it.
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I wake up in the middle of the night, almost every night now, in a cold sweat. There is such dread in my heart. But I keep resisting. I refuse to normalize this crap.
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Me neither.
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Sad to have to write this
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We find reasons to smile, though. Every one is precious now.
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Yes
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Excellent work for so many reasons Lesley xxxxxx
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Many thanks!
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I have celebrated my return with a swift tweet of your fine words, young Leslie
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We’ve missed you! Thanks for the tweets!!!
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Glad to be back. In truth I’ve spent the last 2 weeks writing myself to a standstill. She’s been reading me the riot act.
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I’ve started something a bit more ambitious. I woke up in the middle of the night two weeks ago with an idea for a book. Here’s hoping my inability to stay focused takes a backseat to the story. I get bored so easily, but I like my main character. For now. Tomorrow I might want to strangle her.
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It sounds as if we are one and the same person, young Leslie. I’ve been working on this project since last May. On the good days I write my self to burn out levels. Then get bored, leave it alone…have to re-read the bloody lot when I return to the project, then go for burn out once more. I sometimes wonder how proper writers find determination.
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You are a proper writer, but I know what you mean. If only my thoughts could flow directly from my head to my page. That’d be great.
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Agreed, although my thoughts seem to prefer the maze at Hampton Court to run around in!
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Powerful. Timely.
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Thank you so much!
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Dinosaurs! I like! 😀
Thanks for sharing!
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