Sorin

He stares at white. White board, white paper, white pen. The spaces between the letters is white as well. Only the letters are black. Black. The board used to be black. The occasional screeching sound of the chalk on the blackboard, oh school days where everything was simple and yet to happen. Now blackboard is a website and the board is white. How things change. The simulacra is there but isn’t. He puts the tip of his pen down on the paper and starts writing but the pen is white as well. Shi...