She screams. She cries.
She drops to her knees.
“I was on the
bottom!”
She raises her hand,
smashing her phone against the floor.
It doesn’t break.
She smashes again.
It doesn’t break.
She raises her hand
again, and I stop her. I tell her…
It never breaks.
It never breaks, it never
dies, and it never stops working. It is
not your phone anymore, but his, or hers, or its way to make us play the
game. It is not a phone anymore. It is our damnation.
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