“Come in here!” He gracefully moves his finger along the touch-sensor until the lamp emits warm butter-yellow tones. “It will help me do my work.” I hold out my hand and the lamp turns on obligingly. Of course I know all this, this is my lamp, not his lamp. Day 8: With the lamp vacationing in the music room, the living room looks dull and sort of hideous. Whenever the lamp turns off due to my sluglike stillness, I wave a hand above my head to reactivate it, as nonchalant as a lord summoning more grapes.

Source: The Star January 15, 2023 22:02 UTC