Someone or something you can’t communicate with through writing (a baby, a pet, an object) can understand every single word you write today, for one day only. What do you tell them?
If one object could hear me,
I would choose my phone,
Because it is like my extended arm,
What I always carry to and from home.
It’s not the greatest phone,
Doesn’t even text right now,
I can take pictures but not call,
Can search the web but not all.
I would tell this phone that she has done me good,
Surviving for over a year like most phones wish they could.
You’ve been beaten, dropped, kicked, stepped on, lost, and wet in the shower,
But you still work like a champ and that is your finest hour.
You can’t really rival an iPhone or a super powered Android,
Couldn’t hold a candle to the fancy Galaxy of fanboys,
But you are serviceable and are what a phone was intended for,
Calling people, not scanning off QR codes at the store.
Your screen is smudged and potmarked like faces,
Your camera takes good pictures just not in all places.
Music is the one thing you are good for,
When Headphones plugs into you, the room begins to soar.
“So we will always be good friends?,” my phone would say
“Yes, until the day we part ways.”
“But we won’t ever part ways, will we?”
“I’m afraid so, once a much better piece of technology reaches my hands.”
“But…but…oh, I understand.”
“You understand what?”
“I’m not the most powerful phone out there, don’t have customizable apps, can’t map out your journey to work.”
“You have a Facebook app, which works pretty well. Twitter is also on there.”
“I know, but how many times do you use those apps in a day?”
“I use them when the time is right. My laptop is always near me for that matter. The apps are good for on the go or when I’m in a hotel room.”
“What about my notepad and alarm clocks?”
“Those are very useful though the alarms seem to go off at the most inopportune times.”
“Yes, but you are the one who sets those alarms.”
“I know but you could at least tell me when those alarms are not necessary.”
“Wish I could but I’m not that smart. I’m what you call a semi-smartphone.”
“You are being modest, Elle, you are a very smart phone.”
“Don’t lie to me. I look fat don’t I?”
“What? You aren’t fat. A little on the thick side but I wouldn’t say fat.”
“I’m short and rectangular and the Internet is hard to see on me.”
“So? That’s what makes you unique. You aren’t getting bigger in size like a lot of the new phones. You are small and compact and easy to fit into my pocket. Try doing that with one of those giant iPhones now.”
“You’re right. I am a good phone. Useful, compact, can store things, do simple tasks. But you are still going to give me up someday and I am sad.”
“Not entirely. You’ll still be there for some small tasks like picture taking.”
“But the new phone will surely have a much better camera than mine.”
“Yes but I will always like to go back to using you for pictures because of the nostalgia it entails.”
“Well, that’s nice, though you will probably give up on me after new techno corners satisfies you greatly.”
“Yes, that day will come and you will probably be sitting in a dresser drawer, collecting dust, your number going back into the vat of recycled numbers to be redistributed again, but I will always remember the times I had with you, every moment we had together.”
Elle’s alarm goes off suddenly, a sad tune that hints of parting ways with a friend.
“I’ll miss you, old pal. When the new phone comes can I still be carried around in your pocket for a little while?”
“I suppose so but new phone might not like that, wanting to be the dominant force in owner’s hands. Besides, carrying around two phones is silly and cumbersome.”
“Oh…I see…well, at least you’ll remember me, unlike the rest of your phones that are probably just mulch now.”
“I remember them, Elle, like the dead souls of technology long gone. That first flip phone called Marble that kept me up through the nights with games of Brick Break, my second phone called Slider that made me feel like I was really innovative and hip. The memories…now it’s too bad I see my parents using flip phones and I call them old when I was using the same thing only about six years ago in high school. Then iPhone came and everything changed.”
“I second that,” says Elle.
NoShaNo: November 6: Coming along nice