My parents are here, without my sisters. Since it's a 3 bedroom flat (with one bedroom converted into a study room), I'm left to sleep in the study on a mattress on the floor. Mom's typing away on her Thinkpad.

The whole scene is giving me memory flashbacks. It's like pinpricks on the fringe of my mind. I remember how it felt to use Mom's Thinkpad, back when the Internet was dial-up and noisy. Back when I thought Thinkpad was a common noun, before I found out what a laptop or notebook was. Back when we used to get half hours of computer usage that we had to ask permission for way in advance, and when we had to bid for the prime time to go online and chat.

Even before that, I used to be so excited to open my Inbox. For the life of me, I've no idea what I was looking forward to receiving now. It was incredibly thrilling creating an email ID that existed, and telling my friends my email address. A whole new portal of communication. It was even more thrilling, typing away until 3am to an ex boyfriend, muffling it with a pillow, terrified my parents would come out of their bedrooms and find me way past computer curfew, hiding in the dark.

Amazing how strong the feelings still are, when I let myself drift into nostalgia.