Sometimes, when I’m on the balcony of a really high building, I imagine hovering my MacBook over the ledge. Dangling it in the sky like a tissue to be lost in the wind.
But gravity is unforgiving to those that are too heavy.
And with the ping of a new Teams message, gravity snatches the object from me, its latest victim. My hands feel lighter. And for one sweet moment, I feel free.
Only saddened by the thought that I won’t be there, at the bottom, to hear the orchestral crash of it all, to watch the keyboard buttons bounce up and out, the tiny fragments attacking passersby. Oh, and the beautiful shattering of the screen, crushed by its own weight combined with the forces of that powerful gravitational pull. Teeny tiny cracks spreading out infinitely until there is no more surface, no more area to occupy.
I peer over the edge and watch my it fall almost poetically, turning into a mere speck, before it lands and is no more.
And then my stomach drops.
What now?