Image by Yongho Kim on Flickr
With inflation at an all time high, Marilyn had to settle for the mini computer. But mini computer was putting it mildly. The thing was hardly bigger than an iPhone. Goddamn Amazon and their deceptive images!
But maybe it deserved another chance. After all, technology was getting smaller and smaller. Perhaps she just needed to get with the times.
However, after a day of her big clumsy fingers fumbling around on the "keyboard" (more like a calculator pad), squinting at the tiny screen…no, she wasn’t having it.
The next morning, she awoke to find a gelatinous residue coating the entire device, seeping into the keypad. Which couldn’t be right; she had no such substance in her house, and even if she did, she certainly wouldn’t bring it near her device. The gunk grew before her eyes, making an oozing, slurping sound.
She scrambled frantically for something to remove the residue, which was rendering her device more unreturnable by the second. And wouldn’t you know, not a napkin or paper towel to be found. She grabbed a T-shirt from the floor to use as a sort of clothes napkin.
After only a few minutes of scrubbing, her arm felt like jelly; the substance wasn’t budging. In fact, it grew more viscous the harder she scrubbed. Her “napkin” started disintegrating, little pieces flying off everywhere.
There had to be a better way. Her gaze turned toward the sink. Now, obviously you couldn’t just plunge electronic devices into the sink, but she could turn off the computer, right? Desperate times called for desperate measures. But the power button, encased in this gelatinous sheath, was far beyond the point of receptivity.
The residue was now several inches deep. She plunged her hand in, tugging and clawing at the gunk. It squeezed her wrist like a tourniquet. She found, to her horror, that she couldn’t move her hand.
The gunk rose to her elbow, then her shoulder. In minutes, both arms were entrapped.
Now a force from within the device was pulling her in. The room quivered as she sunk into the screen, fully merging with her mini computer.
She gazed at her living room—it looked so different from within the screen—and watched the gunk rise to the ceiling. Outside the window, the neighborhood kids played Frisbee, oblivious to the scene unfolding just a few feet away.
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