Frank Drake
← This Is How He Wrote

The Day in Nouns

This is how he wrote:

He asked for the shape of a day without the burden of sentences. So we stripped out the verbs first. Then the logic. What was left were the objects he touched, the rooms he crossed, the things he wanted and the things he regretted wanting.

He said a life could be reconstructed from nouns alone— that a man is mostly what he reaches for. So we listed everything he reached for. We kept the repetitions because he kept repeating himself. We let the missing pieces remain missing. We let the lunch break speak for itself.

This is what survived the reduction.


the day

the light, the bed, the phone, the clock, the snooze, the groan, the mug, the coffee, the keys, the kid, the bus, the kiss, the traffic, the light, the jerk, the lane, the horn, the glare, the lot, the badge, the lobby, the elevator, the desk,

the mouse, the monitor, the login, the calendar, the backlog, the message, the tab, the tab, the tab, the coffee, the notepad, the meeting, the donut, the clock, the keyboard, the file, the diff, the merge, the error, the error, the error, the search, the thread, the workaround,

the co-worker, the wink, the elevator, the look, the lunch, the booth, the drink, the thigh, the whisper, the breath,

the meeting, the calendar, the mute, the chat, the ping, the ping, the coffee, the commit, the review, the comment, the window, the headphones, the code, the code, the code, the test, the failing test,

the hallway, the refill, the kitchen, the laughter, the watch, the ticket, the fix, the build, the deploy, the wait, the green check, the sigh, the badge, the dusk, the light, the road, the traffic, the podcast, the turn, the driveway, the door,

the fridge, the fork, the couch, the remote, the child, the bath, the towel, the charger, the book, the blanket, the light.