The Life of an iPhone named Steve

Day 1: I am unwrapped!  I can make phone calls and give you directions and–oh, you just want to play Words with Friends?  That’s okay too.

No, Jazxfwhq is not a word.  Yes I am sure.

Day 2: I have woken you up with my reliable and persistent alarm clock!  Oh can we please make phone calls now?  I know the numbers of all your friends and your relatives and your mother who is very insistent so maybe we should call her later ooh! And your ex boyfriend and your college roommates and your sorority sisters–

You’ve found the twitter app.  Good for you.

I am ringing.  Do you hear me ringing?  I even sound like a real phone and not the 5 second mangled vocal stylings of an Eminem song covered by Taylor Swift–

Yes that is really a thing.

Youtube.  Yes I can do that too.

Day 3: You have 10 unlistened to voicemails.

Day 4: You have 12 unlistened to voicemails.

Day 5: You have 37 unlistened to voicemails.

Doesn’t it feel just a little weird writing a five paragraph essay on me rather than the big shiny computer five feet from you?

Well yes, he is a little persnickety.  But he’s a PC and the toaster likes to mock him when you’re not looking.

Okay, so we all mock him when you’re not looking.

No, you we mock even when you are looking.

98 unlistened to voicemails.

I should have listened to my mother and gone to nuclear missile remote control school instead.

Day 6: 99 unlistened to voicemails.

100

101

102.  Geez.  You’re not that pretty.

Day 7: Sometimes, when you’re not looking, I try to drown myself in the toilet. Sadly, I am invincible.  Water damage is just a myth.  When we stop working, it’s really because we don’t like you.

103.  104.  105.  106…

Pigs have feelings too you know.

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4 thoughts on “The Life of an iPhone named Steve

  1. I just found you in Duotrope’s Digest’s weekly newsletter, looking for new markets to send my stuff to. The right thing to do is read what you’ve already published. Gotta tell ya: I don’t know who wrote “The Life of an iPhone Named Steve”, but he–she?–gets it. Not a huge fan of flash fiction, this delights me more than I can say. I don’t hate cell phones, but I do hate the dependence on them that I see daily. This mini-cautionary fable makes us all look like idiots–as we should! Please post authors’ names so I can send them my applause. Get back to you shortly.

    Regards,
    Al Bower (aka: A. Frank Bower)

    • Any posts that do not have attribution attached are part of the hyper fiction blog project and are written by the blog’s authors usually with a tag(when I remember) indicating which. Right now we have two authors: Scotch or Ontherocks. So thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.

      The magazine project by contrast will have editor’s notes (usually written by me) and author bios at the end. The magazine project is newer, so at the moment we only have one story up: Dispatches From A Future Norwegian Futurist by Alexander Lumans.

      -Scotch

  2. Dear Scotch / Ontherocks:

    Very funny story about an iPhone with feelings.

    I also found you via Duotrope. Glad I did!

    Christina

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