Do When Done

She was cross-legged on her couch, hunched over, phone in hand, scrolling and reading. She texted, "800 words for what"

"to save m" She put the phone down. It was the first time she'd gone to the toilet without her phone in ten years. She wasn't spoiled, but she had a pleasant upbringing. Her boyfriend was raised by a television with a bulky fat remote and his current phone folded in half. At least it fits in his pocket, she thought. What does he do in the bathroom? She heard her phone vibrate and rattle her coffee table. She hated that noise. She leaned and opened the door, raised her voice and commanded her phone to read the text: "eight guys here, need to motivate them, figured around 100 words of encouragement per" The voice was robotic, but her mind translated it as she heard it applying a tone that hid concern with confidence. She tried thinking of a response, but all she could think of were questions to ask her phone.

VVVVV VVVVV. She picked up her phone, read his next message and put the phone back and waited for it to ring and walked away. She could hear the table rattling from her room. She was on her back thinking, stretching and yoga and thinking, on her computer typing and thinking. She wrote him: "here are some links with tips on motivating people" She was embarrassed by her own lack of effort and started cleaning. She flung and shoved things back to their place and the vacuum tracks weren't parallel. She took the shower cold, washing only the neck down, chewed her food less than normal, skipped her sox and scarf but put on her seat belt and nearly ran a stop sign before braking hard. She pulled over to check the phone. There was a police car around the corner. The officer chased and stopped the person behind her. "than you!" her phone read and she sat there crying.