A brightly lit screen pressed up to her nose. Texting, swiping, gaming. A slightly larger screen radiating heat on her lap. Typing, snooping, wandering. A much larger screen blaring mediocre movies and punctuated marketing visuals. Looking, hearing, changing.
But the umbrella gerund? Wasting. She is wasting away amidst three screens, varying in size, function and usage.
Let me verbally download some more motion pictures. I come home to an absence of light, minus the scattered flashlights plugged into some walls. I head directly to the kitchen to put away my lunch container and utensils. Dirty dishes fill the counter, not even the sink. Food is left out for some other slave to put away. The microwave door is hanging out, a safety hazard to anyone over 4' 9".
I walk toward my room, having to unfortunately pass hers, and the disgust cements. All three screens activated, intermittently grabbing her attention. I could start jump roping in her room and she wouldn't even acknowledge me unless I were a screen. Just the sight of these blue-hued lights glimmering around her room makes me sick.
I don't fear losing her because I have already lost her in the depths of a two dimensional world.
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