Grabbing hold of the coaster bar in front of them, Jenny turns to Rebecca, “Put it away for one minute?” Jenny alerts to the iPhone in Rebecca’s hand.
“I like having our own coaster,” Rebecca said.
The coaster climbs steadily with each thump, thump, thump, and bodily thrust repeating in succession before reaching the top. Jenny leans sideways hearing the sounds of the rapid click, click, click, click, click, then breaking loose a deafening pitch as the wind throws her hair backward while her weightless body floats upward and then down. The coaster breaks as it levels below.
“I’m soaked. My iPhone,” Rebecca scours through her pocket.
The coaster floats steadily into a deep cavity of tunnels, further distancing their coaster from the rest.
“I can’t see your face, Rebecca,” Jenny said.
Rebecca turns her iPhone on for the use of some light, and notices an email alert. She hits the tab, but the Google browser loads up instead. Typing the word “email” in search, Rebecca was hoping to quickly view her message.
“Checking you email now? We should be coming up on a waterfall any second,” Jenny said.
“I’m just responding to a question,” Rebecca kept typing.
“I’m riding in a tunnel, so cool,” Jenny read aloud.
“How do you know what I’m writing?” Rebecca said.
Jenny points toward the right side of the coaster, and in big bold text covering the side wall read, “I’m riding in a tunnel, so cool.”
Intrigued by the mysterious writing, Jenny and Rebecca’s eyes closed in on the iPhone.
Jenny rolled her eyes forward, “We’re dropping.” Afraid Rebecca lost the iPhone, she searched the floor. Covered in water drops, it sat face up near Rebecca’s shoe.
“Let’s try it again,” Jenny said.
In the Google search bar, Rebecca types the word “cave”. In big bold text appears a series of links and sources for the word “cave” were highlighted on the side wall of the tunnel.
“How is the iPhone doing it?” Rebecca questioned.
“Keep typing Rebecca.”
The coaster banged into the corner turn, and nearly knocked the iPhone out of Rebecca’s hand. Rebecca then typed the word “boat” to add to the mystery. Again, the side wall appeared with big bold text of links and sources for the word.
“This is so cool,” Rebecca laughs.
“Yah, we’re in the twilight zone.”
The coaster starts to speed up knocking its edges as it adjusts into the right turn, then left, and then right again.
Rebecca was so intrigued. She typed in another word and expected the same big bold text to appear. Moving her eyes upward, she sees the sources and links displayed like the others.
Jenny and Rebecca are thrust forward by a bang from the back of the coaster.
“What is that?” Jenny points to a large pointed fin.
“No way,” Rebecca says in disbelief.
“What did you do, Rebecca?
“I … I didn’t do anything. I just typed the word shark.”
“What? I think you can stop typing now,” Jenny demands in fright.
In a sudden change of direction, the coaster heads up another hill. With each thump, thump, thump, and the rapid click, click, click, click, click, of the coaster moving upward, Jenny and Rebecca are relieved to leave the tunnel. A glimpse of the sky grows wider and bigger as the coaster continues to climb, and the view from the top of the mountain becomes clear.
Squeezing tightly to the coaster bar, Jenny and Rebecca close their eyes and wait for the gravity to pull them forward. Jenny peeks out the corner of her eye to spot the exact moment of the fall and screams with a deafening pitch…
Knocking on her door, “Jenny… wake-up. It’s time to get ready for school.” Jenny’s mother goes to prepare breakfast.
Jenny rushes downstairs and plops herself at the kitchen table. Stirring milk into her oatmeal, Jenny was curious about her dream. She then asked her mother.
“Why do you think we dream?”
Jenny’s mother takes her best guess, “I believe that God lets us dream, so we can search for answers and work things out.”
“Like when we search for things on the internet?”
“It’s one way to look at it. Jenny, have you decided on a story for your paper yet?” Jenny’s mother replied.
Jenny looks down with her eyebrows bunched up and her lips closed tight. “What do you think of iPhones?”
Jenny’s mother responds with a Queenly rule, “Not a chance.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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