When set aside and not (one of) you its vibrations go nnzzzzzt like a nightstand alarm. Grrrrr.
When set aside or held, with catching a message volley its vibrations are a purrrrr.
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.