Empty

Hippie woke up this morning, filled his body with hot coffee, casually perused titles of the latest additions to his several thousand unread emails, and checked the diary for deadlines that passed yesterday & now need rather urgent attention. A typical start to a typical day.

As caffeine spread through the veins, reaching those parts of the body occupied by now stale alcohol, eyelids tearing open as light stained his retina, Hippie glanced across his desk for inspiration.

Mrs Hippie's glowing image shines out from her beautiful photo, alongside which a reminder of the day stands. A once bulky block, with what appeared an infinite collection of immortal quotes, appears rather anemic.

With more coffee filling his now-stirring body, Hippie tore away yesterday's page, seeking to expose a reminder of what day today is.

Nothing!

Like Hippie's mind, the day too is blank. No page to jog the memory of where in the timeline Hippie is. Rather than a classic quote from W, a frame exposes a bland, empty sheet.

It's over. What once seemed like an impenetrable task - a huge calendar, with so many pages the possibilities of how those days could be filled was scary - has now been achieved. Emptiness consumed Hippie as the dawning of the day begins, and Hippie has to acknowledge that W's reign of terror & humour is no more.

A ceremony needs to be planned for this momentous occasion: the calendar that has occupied many desks & entertained so many readers that yesterday's pages were always collectables, the dull plastic frame now has to be discared (or recycled if any firms still existed to recycle).

Ah fuck it, the diary suggested a busy day yesterday, so no time to observe pomp & ceremony now. The old calendar is in the bin, and now a vacant, empty space exists on Hippie's desk. But what to fill it with....