bite the wax tadpole

It’s dark in the car, but I don’t want to turn on a light. I don’t want to be seen. I’m hunched over in the passenger seat, trying to be as still as possible while going 120km/h – I have to be careful, or I’ll spill. Precision is the name of the game, and while my tiny elf fingers aren’t exactly known for their grace and nimblility, I steady the plate as best I can in one hand while gently working the baggie open with the other. Carefully, carefully I pour the contents out onto the flat surface and it lazily twinkles back at me; shimmering softly under the streetlights and calling to me with a knowing wink. I feel momentarily guilty, but I shake it off – my need is greater than any regrets, and I’m not hurting anyone. It’s a free country, they say. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

I hold my breath for the next step. A deep breath could send everything flying, and that would be very, very bad. I bite my lip in anticipation as I line everything up in neat rows; not exhaling until I see stars and my heart is pounding. Do I need oxygen, or the rush? I can’t tell.

Last step. One final check. Everything is ready. There’s no turning back, even if I wanted to .. which I don’t. I’ll never want to turn back.

I pick up the tray and push it home with a satisfying click. My phone comes back to life; illuminating my face in the dark of the car. I drum my fingers impatiently on my thigh as I wait for it to kick in – there. A signal. Weak at first, but grows stronger as the triumph courses through my veins. Once again, I’ve successfully changed the nano SIM for my iPhone 5, switching from my Canadian carrier to an American one and vice versa. I was without data for less than 10 minutes in total, but it felt like a million years of isolation and despair. Now that I’m connected, the world is a better place. Shinier, more friendly. Things taste better. People are more attractive. And if they’re not, I can google up some people who are. I feel like myself again, but I know that it’s temporary – all too soon, I’ll have to do everything over again; a shameful secret that keeps me hidden in the shadows until the new carrier kicks in. Don’t look at me until I have the world at my fingertips. And for god’s sake, don’t fucking sneeze.

One thought on “bite the wax tadpole

  1. Pingback: mmxiii in review | delicious juice dot com: unapologetically inappropriate

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