Author: Jordanna Morgan (email@example.com)
Archive Rights: Please request the authorís consent.
Summary: Logan doesnít know his age, but somewhere in the back of his mind, thereís a vague awareness that heís old.
Disclaimer: Marvel and Fox create the characters that sell. Not me.
Notes: A 250-word drabble that came to me out of nowhere. Just a few random musings on Loganís feelings about progress.
Logan doesnít know his age, but somewhere in the back of his mind, thereís a vague awareness that heís old.
He can tell it by the way he understands old things. As far as heís concerned, computers might as well have come from another planetóbut give him a cumbersome old piece of equipment that became obsolete decades ago, and he knows how it works. He can take apart a World War II-surplus radio and put it back together again. The machines from those days make sense to him, because theyíre simple.
He can tell it by his discomfort with the pace of the world. Something within him silently longs for a time when people made agreements with handshakes instead of lawyers, when families talked over the dinner table instead of their cellphones, when kids got together to play baseball instead of video games. When a person didnít have to do a hundred things to accomplish one thing. When life was better, because it was simple.
The only answer to why he feels for a time like that is because he was born of it. Maybe he has no memory of it, but that doesnít mean he canít miss it. Maybe his body wonít grow old, but that doesnít mean his mind adapts to change any more easily than other old peopleís do.
Sometimes he thinks it isnít really what he is that makes him so different; itís when he is.
Because Logan is simpleÖ and the world is not.
© 2006 Jordanna Morgan - send feedback