The Devil and the Rabbit

Photo by Tony Liao on Unsplash

This week’s prompt is, I dare say, a bit boring. And by that, I mean that it is so encrusted into our day to day lives, that I do not find anything exciting about it anymore. And that makes you stop and think what would the reaction have been forty years ago, if, all of a sudden you went to the past and showed them the ease of access to every information one would ever require, and a few more we never should have looked up.

As a reminder, this week’s requirements are as follows:

o Write the piece in the second person;

o Write about the experience of browsing the web;

o 700 word limit.

It starts like this. There is that one thing that bothers your mind, so you, through lazy thoughts and slow movements, take out your phone to look it up. There are passwords, after passwords, and maybe a fingerprint or two. It takes no more than ten seconds to go online, but for you, it feels like an eternity, and makes you wonder what you have to hide that requires two pin-codes, one password and a face-id?

As always, the bowser welcomes you with an image of some sort, you sigh, disappointed it is not a game. What should be accessed to learn and find out, will soon be forgotten anyway, so why click on it, right?

You take a slight second to remember what you wanted to search for. It always happens like that. You think of something for a few good minutes, but as soon as you are ready to look, you instantly forget. You can remember, in a few simple steps, which start by pressing the first letter that you can remember of the sentence.

“H” you type in, and fast, as fast as a blink, full sentences appear, for you to have your pick. “O” you say the second letter might be, and the instant transforms sentence after sentence to incorporate the “HO”. Naturally, “W” is the third, followed by a press of the space-bar. The second step is reading the said sentences, sometimes aloud, trying to see if at least one of them resembles the memory of what you wanted to look up.

“How to save,” “How to save your soul,” “How old is the queen,” “How to sell your soul”, are the first you read, and you care not about how to save, for you have nothing you could save, and the queen is as old as time. So, naturally, you stop on the two contradictory soul problems.

As you consider yourself a good person, you try to dismiss, the idea of selling your soul. But, it turns out, you can only save your soul according to a bible of some sorts, and in no less than twenty-three steps, as if five weren’t enough. You try to convince yourself that you would have followed all of them if you but believed in God, but it is not for you, so you go back to how to sell your soul.

It sounds more promising anyway, full of rewards, and not so many sacrifices, or prayers, or broken knees. You click on it, without breathing, and stop. The shadow the corner of your eyes seems turns out to be only your cat, and turn around to make sure no one is behind you, for what will they think if they saw you, such a vertical, honest and good person, searching for how to sell the devil your soul?

This time, you have six steps to follow, and the relief is obvious on your face. Six is acceptable, you think. Six is doable, you hope. As if you would follow through. You already see the fortune you could make. You’ll swim in money and fame! Lucky you, indeed you are. You click on it as fast as your thumb will allow. Let’s see, you think, forgetting how to breathe.

You skim through the article, and everything seems a bit too complicated. You find words like deal and Séance, and make a mental note to look the last one up. You see you can choose your demon, and wonder how do they know all of them, and why do all have different powers, and how come there is no dance or the expected sacrifice of a rabbit in the forest behind your house.

Once you sign, there is the obvious cut, and you have to give some blood, for your soul is not enough, and that convinces you that you’ve had enough. Sad and disappointed, realising it was a scam, you go all the way back, onto the blank page of the browser and test your memory again.

Although, you think just for yourself, that rabbit sounds good, just about now, so you type in “how” only to remember. “How to make pancakes” was what you were looking for.

Final Word Count: 700

I tried my best to describe the absurdity of the searches sometimes, but also I wanted to emphasise how easily we forget and give up. How many articles do we read just because somehow we clicked on a page?

There wasn’t a lot I could develop, given the fact that the word limit was 700 words, and by the end of it, I realized I barely said anything. That’s the struggle, I guess.

Next week, has been decided, and it sounds quite interesting:

Tuesday, 12.05.2020

o Write a rhopalic piece;

o Write about a magical incursion in a particular, real, context.

o 500 word limit.

Hope you enjoyed this one, and I shall see you next week!

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