It’s late at night and I’m texting.
The screen’s getting blurry but I have to go on. After hours of stewing I must apologise to a friend for a note written in haste.
It wasn’t that I said something rude or even doubtful. There was no ill-placed smiley face. Not even a hint of double entendre.
The thing is . . . I . . . um, well . . . I abbreviated, I dropped whole letters, I replaced words with numbers and I used spelling that would make a more particular person shudder.
Even now I cringe.
My friend has replied “no prob”.
I bite my lip. She hasn’t used any capitals, no apostrophe to hint at a whole half word somehow lost in the ether of texting.
A shiver goes down my spine. I know texting is meant to be fast, a time saver, making my life more efficient. But it gr8s. Oops. Sorry.