You’re a lonely looking thing – a paradox in this microcosm of modern society, everybody here and not really here, everybody rushing to someplace they can barely remember they were in such a hurry to get to, rushing to spend money on uselessness, to numb aches with moments so brief they can barely be called such – those miniscule seconds after acquiring something they did not have, addictions told them they needed. In reference to you, little friend, they each have the commonality of paying you indifference where once we paid you coins.
Your reason for existence is gone. You are obsolete in a time we all carry a more compact, much “smarter” version of you in our pockets. It must thrill you every time a youngster picks up your antiquated handset, wondering what in the world you are. And who colored your appendage in yellow anyway? Did they think it would make us more likely to use you? Perhaps your concerned caretaker simply wanted you to be noticed again.
Personally, I miss the days when the only accessories you required were chipped up black and a sweat stained, booger-laden book of numbers with its escort service ads torn out. I remember a time we not only depended on you, we even put you in your own house!
Now that we’ve left your world, what is to become of our current one? Are we too stimulated and too mobile that we cannot bear to stop a few seconds to talk to you? Are we so secluded in our tiny individual worlds within our world that the only time we’d even look your direction would be if our connection’s battery were depleted, and we absolutely had to reach a soul, for the only thing worse than making use of you would be to speak with a stranger so we may borrow their device.
What will become of us, wired one of yesteryear?
How will Superman save us without your glass house to change in?