(ThyBlackMan.com) “What’s your cell?” he asked. “What?” I said taken aback. “What’s your cell number?”
Have you seen them walking the streets alone, talking as if someone were there, rapping to the scratchy, disembodied voice in their ear? Have you seen them playing with the smooth, shiny metal sliver, punching the buttons, peering intently at the miniscule screen? 
Have you seen them with that crick in their necks, looking like Igor, Frankenstein’s sidekick, and babbling away like crazy? No you probably haven’t because, more than likely, you’re one of them, and you can’t see yourself steadily pouring tiny doses of radiation into your skull.
Each has the “freedom” to call whom they want, when they want, and talk as long as they have a mind to, locked in prison in a cell with a number.
“What’s your cell?” he asked. “What?” I said taken aback. “What’s your cell number?” I did not, could not, reply.
Tell me, if you were the only person on earth without a cell, would you be free, or just a prisoner of your stubborn non-conformity? And would your loneliness eventually drive you to turn yourself into a cellmate as well, or rather as bad, as that would be for the fate of all humanity?
Staff Writer; Arthur Lewin
This talented writer has also self published a book which is entitled; Read Like Your Life Depends On It.
