Where The WiFi Signals Run Strong

It’s been around for a while now, that phone. And ever since that kid learned how to operate it without crashing it every few minutes, he has been inseparable from that thing.

He’s been toying with the internet setting in it for a while now. Uninstalling and installing new apps from the play store almost every day. Somewhere in the frenzy, he deleted the calling app. So, bye bye outgoing calls. And texts. Cool, eh? Didn’t know you could do that? But that is beside the point.

“Hey, sis,” he says suddenly. “How do you run this thing?”

I turn from my laptop. He’s still staring at the screen on his phone with an expression that will probably be his difficult equation face when he knows what equations are.

“Bring it here,” I tell him. The next thing I’m looking at is one of those pointers they use on online maps. That’s all I see. The pointer jumping on the screen. Confused, I scroll. If the screen was on bird’s eye view first, it went satellite view now. But it’s still in the middle of nowhere. The only fiducial mark is the not so horizontal horizon.

“Why can’t I see our house?” he asks.

I stare him down rather quizzically. “Is this supposed to be a map?”

He nods.

I mentally face-palm. This is what happens when you give five-year-olds smartphones. “It’s probably because you’re not using a very reliable app…” I say uncertainly as I check the icon. Yep. Not Google maps.

He pouts, takes the phone from me and starts to go to my brother’s room. Where the WiFi signal runs strong. He comes back a few minutes later.

“Hey, why doesn’t it move?”

“Huh?”

“See, I’m moving. And the GPS is on. So why doesn’t this thing move?”

I face-palm again. …And free WiFi…

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Author: anankhan98

When I close my eyes, I see myself as a writer. I see a pale blank page in front of me and feel a solid pen in my hand. I feel inspiration flowing through me, hear the words being whispered in my ears, ready to be written. And I see myself writing them. So, I write. And that is why I am here right now. To let the world know that I want to become better at this. That there is this unbelievably naive living in this corner of the world, who wants to have people help her become the best she can become. My focus is actually on fiction. I dream up stories in my sleep, literally. And I can't help but want to write them. Knowing English only as a second language is a drawback, though. I still try.

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