Eddy
was sitting on his favourite chair again, looking sheepishly at the object on
the table before him. Nobody could really state why Eddy loved this particular
armchair, the old looking one. But Eddy loved this chair very dearly; he sat
it, ate on it, chatted on it, and sometimes slept on it. But today, 22nd March,
2013, he was not sleeping, neither was he chatting, he
was only staring, almost
in a stupor of sleepiness. He had almost
drifted off to sleep when he decided to pick up his wrist watch from the table
and checkout the time, 10:45 am. He should be at work by now, he knew he
should. But sometime he didn’t know held
him just down to the chair in his house; it was like he couldn’t really control
it.
Eddy
was a hardworking man, he had always been proud of his job, being a reporter
for a local newspaper in town. He woke up as early as 6 O’clock in the morning
to get his work done and returned home nothing earlier than 6 O’clock in the
evening to take his super and get to bed. His days were always hectic, moving
from one location to the other, finding and getting notes, points, events,
summaries and details. Some days he walked, working for hours from a place to
the other, without getting anything tangible for his boss. And even on days
that he was quite fortunate to get more fifteen articles written and ready to
be published, he went home with a meager payment of $25.
Yet
Eddy loved his job, it had always been his dream to become a successful
reporter. He was never tired of the tasks, the walks, the shouts and the pay.
Nothing made him tired, he felt rather fulfilled and quite efficacious. At
least, a man’s success should not be determined on what he has, but on the
achievement of the purpose of his existence. And Eddy so much believed his
purpose of existing was to be a reporter, a full-fledged one.
But
today, nothing was quite appealing to him; none of his dreams brought him much
comfort. He had been sitting on that armchair for the past four hours, doing
nothing exactly. His body systems were just relaxed and expectant, like a
million dollar check would come to him on the chair he sat. It was like he was
going to find a hidden treasure, one that had been lost for years. Like his
soul was going to feel the comfort again.
Suddenly,
amidst this outstanding silence, the cellphone in his pocket vibrated and then
released a wild tingling sound. Eddy pulled the device with great enthusiasm
and then halted. It was a message, not a call, he knew. But what he didn’t know
was who would take pleasure in sending him a text message this morning. For all
the years he had spent in his reporting career, Eddy could not recollect if his
boss had for once sent him a text like this. No, his boss had never, so it
couldn’t really have been his boss. It might be his coworkers then, but which
of them really had the time to send him a text message? They would all be busy
somewhere, trying to make ends meet. Moreover, his bank only sent him one
message per month to tell him of his account balance, and they had sent on the
fifteenth of that month.
Who
could it be then? Eddy pulled out the phone completely, stared broadly at blank
black screen, and then he pressed the button on left side of the android
device. And instantly, the device lightened up, displaying beneath the screen
region, the signal of a message from an unknown user. Eddy was paying even more
attention to the device now, he swiped the page to the left, and the lock screen
page emerged. He balanced the phone on his palm and imputed his code: 563893.
The phone loaded for a second and then wrote in capital letters; error. Eddy
was somehow angrier at himself than at his phone. If not for some reasons he
wouldn’t mention, he would not have a lock on his phone. So with a piercing
facial expression, Eddy adjusted the phone and tried again. 5631893. The page
swiped aside instantly, leaving the home page on the screen. Eddy pressed the
menu button and went for messages. And there was the message, indicated as
unread by a blue signal. He hit the blue point, waited a second and began to
read.
‘Eddy,
Flora is back from London, she came back this morning. I thought it would be
nice to inform you.”
Eddy
bordered not to search for who sent the message, the content was enough in
itself.
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