The Cold Black Screen

I don't remember when the world first ended. But I've always heard that it began like any other day...

"Hello?" she repeated, staring at the black screen. "Hello?!" She tapped the screen furiously, unable to think of anything else in the moment. Suddenly, she turned to the barista across the counter and blurted out,

"Miss, I think your internet is down."

The 20-something with her long, blond ponytail blinked at her, the coffee her customer ordered sitting forgotten between them. She looked down and reached into the corner shelf of the counter where she kept her phone safely out of the way. She tapped it once, then twice, then three furious times as her brow wrinkled with confusion. The cold screen stayed black.

"Hey, Brandon!" she called over her shoulder, "I think something's wrong with the internet!"

"It shouldn't be," her manager mumbled while troubleshooting the main cash register. The computer obeyed every single command; the internet connection strong, unbroken, and secure according to the settings page.

"Sir, my phone's not working!" a customer called from the back of the line. A rush of worried whispers swept through the queue of nervous patrons.

Brandon's lips twitched into the form of annoyed smile, though he made no reply.

"Lisa," he called called to the barista, "take over here for minute, while I call the internet company." He scooted past the young co-ed, finally freeing herself from the annoyed customer, and hurried to the office at the back shop.

"Excuse me!" the customer declared, but was promptly silenced by the click of the office door.

She begrudgingly accepted her order as two more cups landed on the counter, and sauntered off and out the main door. Furious, she pulled out her phone again, eager to give the small shop a piece of her mind on Yelp when she looked down to unlock it and - damn it.

She held up the phone and pointed it this way and that, determined to get some kind of activity on the cold black screen.

All it got her was the blast of a car horn followed by a sharp screeching...

***

"Watch it lady!" the driver called as the woman nearly stepped into the middle of the road. He swerved sharply and blasted the horn again, snapping her out of her "TikTok" trance just in time to leap back onto the sidewalk - as her coffee tumbled from her hand and splashed all over the pavement.

"Serves you right," he muttered under his breath turning as he merged into the left lane. Then he gasped and slammed on the brakes as the car in front of him idled before the green light. He blasted the horn again, loud and long, having had enough of these idiot-drivers for one day. The car finally seemed to notice him and tentatively made the left turn - but not before flipping a certain jester his way in the rear-mirror.

The driver cursed under his breath, as he pulled to the front of the intersection but was forced to wait when the light switched to red.

"I'm gonna be late for sure," he grumbled to no one. He reached over and tapped his phone screen sitting attentively in the dashboard holder - he tapped again when he realized the screen was still black.

"Shit!" he spat tapping the phone over and over again. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Did if forget to charge it? he wondered. No, it had a full charge when I got up. It was working just fine until...

BLAAAAAARE!!!!

He snapped to attention when he heard the horn - and was even more startled to realize it didn't come from behind him...

***

The car swerved, barely dodging a pedestrian who paused in the middle of the street - after his playlist suddenly cut-out. The car dodged again, startling a drive with the right of way - she blasted her horn at them screaming obscenities through her open window.

"Omigod! Omigod!" the teenager screamed from the back, bracing herself against the seat cushions.

"Shut up, Cal!" her boyfriend yelled spinning the steering wheel and correcting their trajectory. When they had finally fallen safely back into the flow of traffic, Cal pipped-up again,

"You shouldn't have gone back, T! Not for that stupid iPad!"

"I said shut up!" her boyfriend snapped, trying to concentrate on the road. "Besides it was out in the open - free game just like the rest of 'em."

"You're sure your guy knows how to wipe these. Make em really clean?" their friend inquired, turning over a stolen phone in his hand.

"He's the best," the driver insisted smugly. "We might even be able to get a little more from 'em first if any were left unlocked."

"Doesn't look like it..." Cal muttered, reaching for another phone. Then another. And then another.

"Hey, guys - I think these are all dead," she said, the worrying blooming in her voice.

"No way," spat her boyfriend. "Max, check e'm out," he then directed to his friend. Max reached over and plucked the phone from her hands, tapping it furiously try and open it. He tried another. Than another. But the results was always the same: a cold, black screen staring straight at him.

"I'll be damned," Max said. "Don't none of these work!"

A siren wailed to life right behind them, causing all three teenagers to jump at the same time. They looked to each other, a shared perplexed expression on their faces. Until Cal, unable to contain herself, started laughing hysterically at the cool irony.

"Hey, shut up, Cal!" the boys commanded as her boyfriend pulled the car over. But Cal couldn't stop laughing, even as the officer walked up to the driver's side window...

***
"What do you suppose is happening over yonder?" Ginny asked her best friend, Deborah. Deb looked up from her knitting and lifted up her thick glasses to get a better look.

"Beats me," she replied. "Some kids joy-riding I suppose." She then went back to her knitting, as Genevieve returned to her crochet. Her grandson's afghan wasn't going to make itself.

"Hey, Gin?" Deborah asked after a quiet moment.

"Yes, Deb?"

"You got the time? We don't want to be late for afternoon bingo."

Genevieve again paused her crochet and fished her phone from her sweater pocket. She tried to click it one several times before sighing,

"Oh dear! I don't think my phone's working!" She then twisted her wrist counter-clock wise and checked her watch.

"We're good on time - still have about 25 minutes before Bingo."

"Oh good," Deborah answered, not looking up from her knitting. "Now," she added teasingly, "Do I want to know what you did to your phone?"

Genevieve pressed her lips together before looking over at Deborah. Deb paused her work just long enough for Ginny to blow her a raspberry.