j.b.sweetser - author

j.b.sweetser - authorj.b.sweetser - authorj.b.sweetser - author
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j.b.sweetser - author

j.b.sweetser - authorj.b.sweetser - authorj.b.sweetser - author
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  • My Poems
  • About Me

Cell

  

  She had full bars, the Wi-Fi was strong. 


 Those bars defined the boundaries of her life these days. Inside the bars lurked that ravenous open-mouthed monster that sucked her in daily with promises of breaking news, flash specials, outrageous behaviors, once-in-a-lifetime new discoveries.


 There were desperate pleas for political donations, constant updates on trending issues, and the relentless posts of friends and family. The lure of funny cat videos, how-to videos - any subject, anytime, all the time. Then there was the aggressively available online shopping - anything and everything, in infinite abundance, screaming for attention. Buy everything you desire, buy it now - just click! 


 Games to play, it was her turn, play now. Weather! Was it snowing in the mountains? What’s the forecast for next week, what’s the temperature in D.C., I wonder what it’s doing in my hometown.
 

 Hold on, was someone calling her? That’s right, she promised to make dinner tonight. “Okay, be there in a minute.” She put her phone down.


Wait, there’s a flash notification. The phone beckoned - no, commanded, demanded her attention! 


 What’s happened in the last couple minutes? Did I miss anything, better check again…


Those cell bars on her phone held fast. 

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