It’s odd, how some things that we’ve learned stick in our heads forever. Or maybe it is just the age at which we learn. I still can sing a song in Polish that we learned in kindergarten for a recital, and never sang again.
Last night I went to sleep with pencil marks flowing through my head; the alphabet in Gregg shorthand that I learned way back in high school. Only used it for a few years up through my early twenties, when I complained that it was taking up my time to write what someone else was saying and switched my boss, the Vice President of Sales, to a dictaphone instead. Besides, I changed the wording and corrected grammar when I typed him up–he never knew.
I wish I could repeat the marks, the short forms and the phrases here. I used it in my notes the last two nights. Over the years I suppose I have left secrets written in this form, knowing that my men would not comprehend.
The shorthand; or the secrets, either.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology