From the day
Perspective: The Future Historian · Tactile
I sit cross-legged on the carpet, the scratchy wool of my plaid skirt chafing my knees as I flick a heavy plastic slammer against a stack of cardboard Pogs. My fingers ache from the repetitive motions, yet I am distracted by the hum of the family computer; Father says **Windows 95** will soon change everything, just as the buzz about the new **DVD format**, **Java**, and a "world wide **web**" auction site called **eBay** promises a digital tethering we can't yet fathom. I pull at the strap of my nylon tiny backpack, feeling the transition from satin slips to a future defined by these clinical, silicon dreams. This spring air feels heavy with the scent of ozone and starch, a tactile bridge between the physical toys of today and the invisible code of tomorrow.