by J. S. Volpe
* * *
T-mail transmission:
From: Solace Tenant
To: Reynard Fuggs
June 22, 6692; 7:09 PM:
Hey, Reynard,
Wow, this is weird, isn’t it? It’s been, what, about 2000 years or so since we last saw each other? We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. The world has completely changed since then.
I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been doing. As for me, the last time we met, I was a teacher, I believe. I’ve continued to do that from time to time. Mostly, though, I don’t really hold any job. Over the years, I’ve managed to arrange my finances so that I don’t have to work. If I do any work, it’s because I want to. I’ve talked to a few other Elders over the years, and most of them do the same. It’s pretty easy to get rich when you live this long.
Most of my free time is spent reading, traveling, writing, a few other things. And before you ask, the writing’s mainly just a hobby. I’ve written many many things, and they almost always wind up in drawers, then thrown away after a few decades or centuries. All I’ve ever published is a few poems, and like most of my writings, they were pretty terrible.
But enough about me. Tell me something about you.
—solace
