Lost

Summer is here but Max is elsewhere. It is not a happy place.

For seven weeks, Max worked on a project with a deadline at a client’s office, in what was the equivalent of a bunker. By the last two weeks, Max was working an average of 16 hours a day. In the last three days of the project, he slept a total of six hours. The project paid well, but at the end of it, Max went back home, with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The feeling refused to go away. This afternoon, the doctor humm’d and umm’d and prescribed some expensive medication ‘to prevent the situation developing into a stomach ulcer.’

To survive, Max has been using Flickr (www.flickr.com) as a therapy vehicle. An outlet for creativity. A means of connecting with likeminded people. And out of it hatched the beginning of a collaboration project, between Max the writer and a photographer.

Over the last week, the project blew up. And Max realised that in the world of the Internet, not everything is what it seems. And in the process, a friendship was burnt and Max dug in and went to wherever men go to, to lick their wounds.

He is still there.

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