Twigs of our time
‘Push the buttons!’ I heard him say, panicked.
“What buttons? I don’t see any button.’ I said. I didn’t see any button, only twigs – dark and menacing - reaching out to the sky.
‘Those buttons,’ he shouted, ‘press them…now!’
For a moment, I didn’t trust him. What buttons? It was meaningless.
‘Am I supposed to pull these twigs?’ I asked.
‘No! Just press the buttons.’
The buttons! What buttons?
‘Too late!’
What? Strange noise. Darkness. Was it raining? I felt sharpness flow down my left ankle. Warm and itchy.
What’s happening? Hello! Anyone?
Silence.
‘Am I dead?’ Was I dead?
I reached out my hands in darkness.
Twigs. Silence. Darkness.
