Cellphone, the Sewage Hero
It was purely accidental.
The cellphone slipped out of the pocket and fell to the ground. After a bump and a spin on the asphalt road, it slid to the side and fell down to the sewer.
It was never its intention, to be honest. This slipping out was only meant to be a fun ride, a never-before escape from the dull life of getting in and out of the pocket. But now the cellphone lay alone in the dark, half engulfed by the rotting mud. Such naive stupidity.
'Arrgh.' After a while it managed to get up, feeling the ache in its lid and its hinge.
'Hello? Is anyone here?'
Its voice poked into the darkness all around. But there was no answer.
'I need a light.' The cellphone mumbled nervously to itself, spinning around as if it could spot anything useful in this blindness. Nothing. The world of sewer was a world of disappointment.
'Fine.' The nervous mumble turned into a grumpy spat. 'I find my own way out you lousy bastards.'
Bastards...bastards...bastards...mustard....
The echo multiplied and faded in the sewer, making the cellphone almost believe that there was someone else out there, in the dark, watching it.
And did it just heard mustard in the echos?
'Alright, I'm sorry, okey? That wasn't "bastard", and certainly not "mustard". I was only trying to say "custard". So peace, everyone.'
Even though the cellphone was pretty sure the mustard thing was just something funny in its ears, it still made a clarifying statement, loud and clear. You can never be too careful.
Because who would like a grumpy cellphone, anyway. No one would get hurt in your being likable, except you.
So the cellphone started to fumble forward. Regret soon filled its heart with each step it took. The folly its had conducted, the stupid dream he had dreamt while lying safely within the pocket, and the pile of gross that kept sticking to its delicate feet.
It never should have left that comfy spot dreaming of a cellphone adventure saga.
But now here it was, waging hard in the sewage filth, trying to find a way back up.
The cellphone lost the sense of time.
It felt like it had been here forever, but it also felt like he had just arrived. At a certain point it started to hear itself sobbing, but how exactly did the sob start was lost to it.
'Light.... Someone give me some light....'
Suddenly it tripped and knocked its head hard against the ground and mud.
Its lid flew open, and a source of cool light came forward from its screen.
'It was right here....'
How could it have not thought of that? It was a cellphone! A cellphone that could be an absolute annoyance, a wanna-be lighter in every concert! It was the embodiment of light!
A surge of hope ran through the cellphone and it jumped up liked an overly spirited old person. It felt there was a lesson in this: No matter how desperate the situation might be, believe in yourself, and you will surpass all obstacles.
Brilliant.
Now time for the march.
The cellphone strode triumphantly forward, chasing the darkness in front of it like a legendary hero. It knew this was the starting point of its will-be-famous saga.
Just when all things went unbelievably well, the light flickered twice, and went out. The cellphone had lost its power.
In the total darkness, there was a long silence.
Then:
'...Hello? Is someone here?'
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He with whom neither slander that gradually soaks into the mind, nor statements that startle like a wound in the flesh, are successful may be called intelligent indeed.
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