Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Write CONTEMPORARY FICTION (10/30/14)
- TITLE: From Luddite to Cyborg
By Kon Michailidis
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"He never uses his land line," replied her husband, Grant.
"I would love to be a Luddite today and smash Facebook ... just to see his real face."
Sylvia paused to exhale.
"When did we start appearing so primitive to our grandchild anyway?" she continued. "It's breaking my heart."
"You might send him a formal invitation," suggested Grant. "Scratch it on a piece of rock in your best copperplate script--he'll certainly think that's primitive - and write 'Why don't you drop into our cave some time. We will provide the dead animal, and if you give us sufficient warning, we'll even keep the campfire burning from the night before, so we can cook it. Gruntingly, Your troglodyte Nan and Grandad'."
"I'm not in the mood for your jokes. I think even that would be too subtle for him," said Sylvia.
"Not if you drive by his house and throw it tied to the end of a wooden spear through his window while he's sleeping."
"That's very funny, but why don't I see a smile on your face? Any other ideas?"
"You could venture out of your cave and into his world."
A young man flung open the door, ran into the room and jump sat onto the table at the front of the class.
"Welcome folks! I'm Carlos! I will be your facilitator for this class in digital technology!
I 'spose it's a whole new universe for some of you."
The teacher's youthful exuberance coupled with carefree informality caught Sylvia off guard. She was fascinated, half in awe.
The last time she had been in a classroom was forty- five years ago. She never knew whether it had been the vogue or economic necessity, but her teacher used to wear a tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows. Nothing could be more different than what now stood in front of her. Here was a man, supposedly their teacher, in a T-shirt, fully exposing a right arm with complex tattoos extending all the way to his neck.
She had expected to smell chalk dust and old wooden floors. Instead, she caught the occasional whiff of perfume from similarly- aged classmates all sitting expectantly.
"Let's introduce ourselves and say why we're here. Would you like to start Sylvia?"
"Mrs Pink. Call me Mrs Pink."
"Huh? I thought your name was Sylvia," said Carlos.
"Never mind," Sylvia mumbled.
"Well, I am here," Sylvia babbled, "because when our son Andy and Becky finally had their son James after marrying so late, then wanting to get their house, and then having such trouble conceiving, we were thrilled, even when they asked us to mind him three days a week. We could not wait until he went to school so that we could see him without all that hard work. It was OK for a couple of years; then the world and school and friends and computers and phones seemed to...well... swallow him up...and..."
"Whoa! Let's just hold it there. You are here for us to help you find him inside the whale of technology. Right?" asked Carlos.
"Sort of. I'm resigned to the notion that to reach him I need to become part Cyborg and part grandmother."
"Well, let's start with learning how to use the Internet and Smartphone."
A few months later...
"I can't say that was the most enjoyable course I've done, dear, but it's been an eye-opener," said Sylvia to Grant. " I've just taken James' favourite cake out of the oven. Let's see if I can entice him. Now where's that wretched Smartphone?"
She reached into her front apron pocket, pulled out the phone and put on her glasses. She concentrated hard. It still did not come easily, but she managed.
cu4t james? made cake. lol nan
A reply shot back.
lol means lots of laughs not lots of love send link to cake pic james
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