THE SHINNING

Is it me, or the screen of our telephones is taking our will to be physically wherever it is we might find ourselves on any moment, one login at the time. If this was something, somehow, we pondered about before, now, in a way, it is almost a matter of fact, one could even say. Says the woman writing this story on such a device. I try to avoid it, falling into the trap. Used to feel so embarrassed of finding myself nose to screen in public. I am still embarrassed, the only difference is that, now, that does not stop me from acting like an idiot anymore. Cause I do feel like an idiot while I’m holding this little, it didn’t seem so little at first, kind of the opposite, actually, rectangular flat screen shinning back at me. A sudden hope for a Midnight special to shine a light on me instead, reminds me that it is up to me to be this way. As the idiot in me snaps out of her idiotic hypnotic zone, though still with the help of the same device, I decide to play the song, unavoidably surrounded by flashing propositions and catchy lifestyle changing improvements for five seconds, that this days have the same sensorial length as an eternity, and I look through the window to my left hand side, for to my right there’s only a sea of idiots like my kind and that could, almost, make me cry, for only five minutes ago I was giving the same sad show. It is very much in my nature to loose track of space and time getting lost in my thoughts, though, that was the sort of thing that made me proud, it was almost like a super power, whereas this, now, feels almost dishonest towards my evolution, diminishing my chances to a graceful future.

The shinning. Short-story from 12 o’clock-tales (The red table & A scared black cat, book adventure)

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