
The Internet Was Once a Place
Once, there was a door. A real one. With a handle and a key. It was the door of the room where the computer lived. Big wooden desk. A mess of floppy disks, CDs and cables. After school, I’d drop my backpack by the door and run at it. I had 30 minutes. Thirty minutes of freedom, after begging for them like it was a matter of life or death. ...