going electric

The children went to their island and delighted in mangling idioms and patting each other on the back. They spoke loudly, cheered at the flat screens, grew roots, rusted and got stuck without knowing it. They were sure of themselves.

The days and nights slipped slipped along. No reason was found to interrupt the twenty four seven and challenge reality. All good things would surely pass to them for this had been foretold in their pasts. Results were inevitable, effort was not necessary, they were sure of themselves.

The electronic reminders clanged away all day long telling them that they were real. They took pictures of each other, thanked each other for the adds and could not be alone. There was no time to waste even as they saw all around them the failed results of intemperate decisions and the time wasted. They remained sure of themselves.

They slept through the morning of each new day and ignored the beacons provided for their direction. No need was found for change, failure was an option, someone would look out for them even as they bellowed that they could look out for themselves. Wants were all that mattered, they were sure of themselves.

The island was not real, it had no water around it, it was just where it had always been and these children were like many that had come before them for thousands of years only now there were more of them than ever before. They all talked about being honest and complained that everyone else was fake but who could blame them? They had no chance to endure the trials of life sustaining labor for they had easy employment in things that did not really matter.

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does bob still pound on an olivetti?