Buzzy throbbing rectangles

When set aside and not (one of) you its vibrations go nnzzzzzt like a nightstand alarm. Grrrrr.

What NOW?

When set aside or held, with catching a message volley its vibrations are a purrrrr.

Ah! Huzzah!

Sometimes it feels like a single cord, taut, if I shake my rectangle it makes yours flip.

I curl slightly, dumb happy look (probably), and open my chest and send a throb into the backlit screen.

The pulse makes its way to you. You, also hunched, grin widely, clutch it closer. Whisper type back.

When it's business I lean back in aversion, make a face, thumb slaps respond.

Busy times it feels tentacled. Ugh. Latching onto hands and chair and lap. If I dropped it (though pricey!) it may skitter under the table shade. Crouching, anxious to pounce again at the next bzzzzzt.

Out and about. *CLICK* I am here. *SEND*

*CHECK* Has anyone? *SCROLL* Where is? *CHECKITY-CHECK* Ah! Have I been there? *COMMENTY-COMMENT*

A nuisance. A boon. Data plans are expensive, but planes and trains cost more.

ASCII and files slung back and forth in digital semaphore.

Amusement aggravation. I am not there I am here.

Life gets less vapid with wants and hopes and jibes filling the air.