I am currently taking part in the 5 Photos – 5 days challenge after being nominated by Annika Perry from her blog: https://annikaperry.wordpress.com/
Here is my photo and writing for Day 3.
Well, when I saw this Red Wi-Fi box it took me back to the days of red phone boxes, and this kind of inspired this little piece of flash fiction:
Wi-Fi Red Phone Box Dating.
Fifty, Fifty, Fifty, Fifty. Fifty. Five times, that’s enough. I don’t want to be reminded about my age. I’m going to the gym, hanging out in all the cool roof top vistas, and sipping gin and tonics in the sun. Who knows? I might even end up raving in a nightclub somewhere. I’m fascinated by this little red box. Apparently these used to be red phone boxes, how quaint! Nowadays these red boxes house Wi-Fi hot spots.
It’s tiny. Dark inside. There’s a light switch, click. If I touch this button I wonder what will happen? My hands tremble as my fingertips linger over the device. I give in to temptation. Oops, someone’s knocking on the door, wanting to come in and share my Wi-Fi dream. I wonder if I should let them in? What will he be like? If I don’t find him appealing can I lock him out with a key? Or would that be too cruel?
Then my babbling thoughts are thrust into a hasty retreat as I hear the sound of his voice.
“Hi, I’m Pete,” he says. I can’t see him yet but his voice is promising, nice.
“I’m Liz,” I reply.
“This is different,” says Pete, stepping into the box.
“Yes, it certainly is. Wi-Fi dating. A box of dreams,” I say smiling.
“It’s all new to me,” he says, but his eyes look away.
“Yeah, me too. The red box crew got it more or less right, the roof top vista, overlooking Cambridge city centre looks wicked, and I don’t mind a gym session, but I’m not too sure about the nightclub.”
“Maybe that’s an optional extra, you could opt to press shift?” replies Pete raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I may do. But maybe we should be adventurous,” I suggest waiting to see how he will react.
“Yes why not. I’m up for an adventure.”
I’m beginning to flirt. I remember the signs.
I like that a lot.
“And I’m treating you. I’ll pick up the tab,” replies Pete.
The word tab cuts it dead, and so does treating you. I’m not some sort of invalid. Two slices threaten the circuitry of the red box dream.
“There’s no need,” I reply my voice rising shrilly.
“Don’t worry I don’t possess that key, the one you’re worried about,” his eyes twinkle in amusement, flickers of blue, green, light.
I sigh. “That’s a relief, I wasn’t sure if all my requirements had been noted. How thoughtful of you to say.”
“It’s my pleasure,” his cute accent sends my mind reeling.
I forget all about the tab gaff.
A smile lights up my face as if I’ve pressed the page up and page down key and the smile doesn’t quite know where to stop. Where will it end? Which key will we end on? End, Home or Shift? At least I don’t have to worry about Control (Ctrl.) I don’t want anyone controlling me. No. Not after the last one, the one I had to delete. Fast.
There’s a pause in the conversation, the system’s doing an update. I wait until it’s finished and then I check him out. Boy, this updated verson ticks all my compulsory Wi-Fi boxes, and more. He’s tall, dark and handsome. Not short, pale, bald and pasty. No need to press the up arrow or the right, left key. His proportions are perfect. He’s got an enhanced smile too, even better than before and he isn’t a day over fifty. In fact he appears a lot younger. A lot, lot younger. Twenty years younger. He looks like he goes to the gym. Regularly. So my hands stay well away from the delete key.
“I hope you’re happy with the update?” asks Pete, breaking into my thoughts. He frowns a little as if he’s not sure if his asking is correct protocol.
“I am.” I find myself blushing.
His tee-shirt rides up a little, my eyes linger, on taut, well toned muscles. For a second or two I seem to have stopped breathing. I remember to breathe.
“Happy Birthday,” I say, with a grin, aware that if I don’t say something quickly my eyes will bore an exploratory hole through his tee-shirt.
“How did you know it was my birthday?” asks Pete.
I frown a little.
“It was a 50/50 chance I was right. These boxes are birthday dates sometimes.”
“Oh, yes I see. Silly me. The fifty slogan on the box, I’m being a bit dim,” says Pete, a flicker of anxiety crosses his face.
“No worries,” I say.
My frown melts. I can update again if need be, no cause for concern.
‘Happy Birthday to you too!”
“Thank you!” I reply with a smile.
“So you’re following the red box’s advice, no right clicks or left clicks? You’re going to the gym, then a drink in the rooftop bar, plus a night club?”
“Yes, might as well, let’s keep it simple. Would you care to join me Pete?”
“Yes lets, what a wonderful idea, I’d love to.”
Pete appears relieved, I notice his shoulders relaxing, a moment ago they seemed to be hitched up to his ears. I suppose he must have been worried that his birthday was about to be blown out, all fifty candles no longer flickering.
I press the escape key. He doesn’t sigh but I know from the expression on his face that he wants to. We leave the red box and step out into our date. I need a cool shot of alcohol, all this dating internet shenanigans makes me anxious. Who knows what may happen? But one things for certain, fifty is the new thirty. Maybe we might end up together in the love zone, or even find ourselves at home, no shift key required. Sweet.
© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica.
Words good or bad, are my very own!
Article about converting red phone boxes to Wi-Fi spots: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/3110726.stm
I hope you might want to join in the Challenge and if you do here are the rules:
‘Post a photo each day for five consecutive days, and tell a story about each photo. The story can be truth or fiction, poetry or prose. Each day one must also nominate a fellow blogger to participate in the challenge.’
Today I would like to nominate Julia at My Red Page: https://myredpage.wordpress.com/to take on this challenge, if she would like to.
I look forward to seeing her post.
Thanks for dropping by.