The sun was peeking through the window sills, I was hoping that my phone would ring anytime before. But no, it did not. I frantically plucked myself out of my comfortable bed, grabbed my phone to check what time was it.

Pressed the home button, no response, perhaps I did not charge it last night. My memory seemed to have lapsed, I charged it, and went for a quick wash-up. When I re-booted my iPhone, its screen reverted into the archaic Nokia 3310 style, where 60 percent of the screen was number pads and the actual screen was only black and grey dots.

I had virtually no access to the Internet or whatsoever, I quickly flipped open my laptop, same case. The anxiety started to build up inside me, the time on the screen depicted that I was late for work. I had no time for this. Rushing out of the door, panicking through the streets for the train, I looked around to everyone, similar. Everybody looked very nervous, as if they were broken away from the daily dose of the Internet.

When I flipped my phone open, went to my contacts, it was empty. I wanted to call my family, friends, but I could not even recall one single number. Bumping into people when I was running for the train. I was so lost, so as everyone else. It appeared that everyone was in a trance.

Nobody was wearing earphones, nobody was on their phones; everybody was in fear, everybody was staring blankly at each other; there were lesser people, there were more oblivion than ever; the atmosphere was more of the medieval times, but the train and every other things were still running, except for the Internet.

As I reached my work place, an urgent meeting was called immediately, resolving our current issue. It was a bliss when I got to talk to my colleagues. The plague resumed for a few hours, and the news went up on the radio that the authorities were fixing things up. Hopefully, they will fix this shit up. It was odious, terrible, as if I was a fetus cut off from the umbilical cord, I was literally disabled.


Craving for more? Down below:
Feedback Loop From Hell
Stating My Mind
What Is Love?

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

10 thoughts on “DisConnected

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