LETTER OF THE WEEK
A life in the trenches
Peter Dench has my sympathy, looking at what he considered a ‘quietly distressing image’ of a young man waiting patiently for some office machine’s output, possibly the results of hours of mental endeavour (Final Analysis, July 26 issue).
In my mind, I could picture Peter sitting at the breakfast table, in his pyjamas, slice of toast in one hand, staring blankly at a blank page, his wife having departed hours previously. The page now takes on all the characteristics of the second line of a Wordle competition, when the brain refuses to focus, and nothing springs forward