Lament for all the unread words. We bob on an ocean of instructions, appendices and contra-indications. As sterile as saline. Sentences curl around diagrams, lodged in folders, binders and on-line repositories, furiously punctuated for no one to see. Semi colons like silent trees falling in the forest. Think, won’t you, of the hours of writing, the signings off, versions and updates. The printing, churning and backing up to servers. This is not story telling, its arse covering. Large piles of small print, just in case, told you so, don’t sue us. Resources squandered on flinging words where no eyes will swallow them.
