When I was young I would daydream about the year 2000. It sounded light years away. Space age. I would be twenty five. What would the world be like? I didn’t want to be stuck in a classroom covering a balloon with wet newspaper. I wanted to be twenty five.
I was twenty five. It passed with no explosion of life. No transformation. Just the creeping sense that thirty was looming like postponed homework on a late Sunday evening.
I wanted to be twenty five.
Now I long for it, as if I had misplaced it and can’t remember where.
Copyright © Andrew Wright 2026