starting from something tiny, because the headlines get distracting at times. Big catastrophes, humongous silliness etc.
something tiny such as: how a person applies for social aid. The person shows up at a social aid center, takes a number and waits in line or grabs an orange plastic chair with an incipient wobble?
No more. A person did this when social aid centers were available in most large and medium-sized communities, and staff, evenly distributed in same. Henceforth – as of next Monday – a person will book an appointment with a social aid service provider – one of those admirable and harried (often grumpy) persons that cover three, four or five different towns for half-day periods in the week.
The undoubtedly admirable staff thinking out the strategies for dealing with downsizing (before their own chair gets removed from under their rump) had a further thought on the topic of appointments. While we’re at it, their collective mind reasoned, let us make a bold step forward in Dematerialization i.e. reducing the pernicious effects of paper, paper, everywhere. Let us make bookings by email mandatory. Yay team, great idea, high fives, happiness galore.
A few timid and a few brash voices pipe up from the field: peoples? If we may point out? Seventy percent of the people applying for social aid don’t own a computer? Should they book their appointments from the library computer? Will the librarian forward the information to them – by phone? by snail mail? What thinkest thou?
As of next Monday, email bookings will be mandatory.
Scenes on a cutting room floor : would make a good title for the notebooks in which harried, desperate, angry, hurt, elated or despairing characters hurl themselves at the writer like the ghosts assailing a spiritist. Jottings. Rants. Supplications. Long rambles through the brambles of time.
Out of which, sometimes, a few words emerge for use in story.
(For young readers chancing upon this post as they search for something else: long ago, movie-making involved the use of long reels of tape as a recording material. At editing time, bits of tape got cut out, the remaining bits were spliced together until the thing became a final cut. Same as, long ago, final drafts involved the literal cutting and pasting of words on paper to assemble the paper dollies from which the writer produced a clean copy.)
Voilà. (Yes, I’m close to the final scenes on this one.)