By Yash Seyedbagheri
I walk in the woods, leave the cell phone home.
I try to absorb each curve in roads, savor little streams running down muddy knolls.
The cell phone resounds in my mind. Has someone texted?
I look to the pines, the pale blue and pink of evening, the rising moon. How vast this scene is.
Email beckons, demanding. Is this the day I get published in The New Yorker? Do I have electronic bills waiting?
I don’t need to check. An hour won’t make a difference.
It might.
I feel feet moving faster. I try to slow down.
The phone waits.
The phone summons! Overcoming an addiction isn’t easy but it can be done. Well desscribed!
Love the title. I wish this story wasn’t so relatable!
I think the cell has become a prison as described. I feel uneasy when I leave my phone behind. This is a good moral tale.
So relatable!