Free to Fall

Knowing that the voice wouldn’t scream to be heard, they made sure that the world stayed loud with music and movies and 24/7 news and incessant online chatter. If they couldn’t silence the whisper, they’d bombard people with other voices. Infinite choices.

Even without Lux, I never would've ordered this," I pointed out. "I hate two of the four ingredients." "Ah, but there are seven ingredients. And so what if you hate two of them? The fact that I hate Russian dressing doesn't diminish my enjoument of a good Reuben sandwich. Ours is amazing, by the way.

The point is, there will always be competing voices," I heard North say. "In your head and in the world. You can't spend your life caught between them." I looked up at him. "You're telling me to choose." "I know better than to tell you to do anything," North said, reaching around me to shut down his computer. "But if you don't decide, the world will choose for you.

He held the camera out for me to see. It was a women, her sunken eyes looking straight at the camera. 'I don't want your money', her cardboard sign read. 'Just look at me so I know I exist'. The words and her expression were arresting on their own, but they weren't what made the photograph so compelling. It was the people in the foreground, the passersby, eyes glued to their phones as they hurried to wherever they were going at lunch, completely oblivious of the women with the sign.

Podemos carregar maços de notas no bolso e manter mapas de papel no carro, mas, como mosquitos àquelas telas

Ele estava parado, sorrindo para o visor da câmera, e o virou em minha direção para eu ver a imagem. Era uma mulher, claramente uma moradora de rua, com os olhos fundos fitando a câmera. "Não quero seu dinheiro", dizia o papelão segurado por ela. "Apenas olhe para mim, para eu saber que existo".

For the first time in a long time, connection had replaced connectedness. I’d never seen anything like it before, not on this scale. The effervescent pulse of human interaction. People turning to faces instead of screens. It was a splendor of its own.

She reached around me, grabbing my Gemini from the back pocket of my jeans. She touched its share button to hers. 'There,' she said, handing the phone back to me. 'You have my number. We should be friends now.

I'm not sure,' I said. 'I had a pretty bad reaction to a peanut butter cracker when I was three. A woman at my daycare had to use an EpiPen.' 'Does it freak you out?' Hershey asked. 'Knowing that you're one poor snacking choice away from death?' I looked at her. Seriously? Who said things like that?