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Rip Van Winkle wakes
Wednesday 22 September 2010
by Peter Ebsworth
on a deserted beach
sore, shrivelled and bewildered.
Wanders vainly in a daze,
looking for his mates,
any familiar bars, clubs, hotels.
Exhausted sooner than usual,
accepts a ride in a hovercapsule,
which circles and dips lower until
he manages to step inside.
We'll take you, but next time activate
your freedom chip or you must pay up.
Rip protests that as he's only nineteen
why would he need a free travel pass
you can't get before you're eighty five?
Nineteen! And the other hundred.
Stop wasting our time and look at yourself.
The Controller flicks a switch
and the mirror drops.