no, a string arm ribber…

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Charles River Murk

He composed a text to her, intending to say: “I’m going to be a strong arm robber,” but the auto correct produced: “I want to be s throng arm robber.”

She responded: “U mean a strong arm ribber?” She had turned off her autocorrect months ago, confident in her speed and accuracy.

He responded: “no a string arm ribber.” His fused thumb again unable to hit the mark.

She threw her phone in the river from the Mass Avenue Bridge. She’d always wanted to see something she’d thrown disappear in the Charles River murk. 

A few yards later, she dove into the river… never to be seen again.

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“And there are times when the only feeling I have is one of mad revolt.”
— Albert Camus, The Plague

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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