Nonstop meetings at work, and a dozen texts I need to send. I reach for my phone.
Headlights blind me, a head-on crash—screeching, metal on metal, penetrating pain. Blood trickles into my eyes, I can’t breathe, and when I swallow I taste rusting metal. I fight the pressure in my chest and pick glass from my face before grabbing my cell phone to make sure my text went through.
A tunnel of white light surrounds me and a voice says, “That was your last text. You can’t use social media ever again.”
Who knew Hell would be like this?