We return to Ellie's story. We left her late for work, rushing out of her apartment and bemoaning her no-show boyfriend. We join her as she drives to work. The prompt is box.
The song ended with her belting out the chorus. The smooth voice of the DJ came on. “For those of you experiencing romantic problems today, this one is for you.” The music started soft but gradually became loud enough for Ellie to recognize the words. A terse ballad about taking an arrow straight to her heart. Instead of falling in love, this arrow just hurt. Even her favorite radio station was against her.
“That’s it. You’re history.” Her fingers punched scan, which enabled the radio to find the next strongest signal. Anything would better than the previous song. The scan stuttered over a couple of weak signals settling on a woman speaking. “Do you ever wonder why you have never met your soul mate?”
Ellie sighed. Again. The scan would move on in a couple of seconds if she didn’t touch it. “Yes, I do,” she decided to answer the radio box voice. Couldn’t talk it out with Mr. Bigg aware her property owner might overhear.
“It could be your choice of dating material.”
Wait a minute, shouldn’t the scan move on. “Nina, is that you? Are you playing the world’s most elaborate practical joke on me?”
Her right hand felt around the radio to see if any wires lead away from it. Her friend might be able to manage a feed into her radio system. Nothing. Although, it sounded exactly what Nina would say. Her principle complaint was she dated men who didn’t treat her well. Her response was that Nina didn’t date at all. That wasn’t entirely true, but it shut her friend up for a while.
The radio voice continued, “Do you long for a man to accept you as you are and not some knock-off copy of a celebrity?” Her eyes widened considering how radio voice knew that Justin always wanted to role-play with her assuming the role of a famous singer while he was the music, producer. The wig she always had to wear made her head itch.
Being herself would be nice for a change. Going out and having other people fix meals would be nice too. There was so much she wanted to do, but never mentioned it knowing that Justin would shoot down her ideas. It was easier not to suggest things and face rejection.
“Yes, I do radio voice. Any suggestions?”
The voice continued, the accent more pronounced than before. “What you need is a romance aid.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the word, romance. “Seriously. I’m sure that would be in four convenient payments of $19.95.” The aid would consist of a minuscule vial of pheromone oil that smelt like sweaty gym socks. Not sure, how that attracted anyone.
Static filled the air as the radio searched for another station. Now. The radio changes stations. The theme music of the old-timey gospel hour filled the car. Elle recognized it since her grandmother always listened to it. A gravel-voiced minister spoke. “Believe. You have to believe. There is no power without belief.”
“Believe what?” Listen to her talk back to the radio, was she in a current day version of The Twilight Zone where everyday device offered advice. Worse yet, she not only talked back but was actually starting to consider the random words as directions for living.
The song ended with her belting out the chorus. The smooth voice of the DJ came on. “For those of you experiencing romantic problems today, this one is for you.” The music started soft but gradually became loud enough for Ellie to recognize the words. A terse ballad about taking an arrow straight to her heart. Instead of falling in love, this arrow just hurt. Even her favorite radio station was against her.
“That’s it. You’re history.” Her fingers punched scan, which enabled the radio to find the next strongest signal. Anything would better than the previous song. The scan stuttered over a couple of weak signals settling on a woman speaking. “Do you ever wonder why you have never met your soul mate?”
Ellie sighed. Again. The scan would move on in a couple of seconds if she didn’t touch it. “Yes, I do,” she decided to answer the radio box voice. Couldn’t talk it out with Mr. Bigg aware her property owner might overhear.
“It could be your choice of dating material.”
Wait a minute, shouldn’t the scan move on. “Nina, is that you? Are you playing the world’s most elaborate practical joke on me?”
Her right hand felt around the radio to see if any wires lead away from it. Her friend might be able to manage a feed into her radio system. Nothing. Although, it sounded exactly what Nina would say. Her principle complaint was she dated men who didn’t treat her well. Her response was that Nina didn’t date at all. That wasn’t entirely true, but it shut her friend up for a while.
The radio voice continued, “Do you long for a man to accept you as you are and not some knock-off copy of a celebrity?” Her eyes widened considering how radio voice knew that Justin always wanted to role-play with her assuming the role of a famous singer while he was the music, producer. The wig she always had to wear made her head itch.
Being herself would be nice for a change. Going out and having other people fix meals would be nice too. There was so much she wanted to do, but never mentioned it knowing that Justin would shoot down her ideas. It was easier not to suggest things and face rejection.
“Yes, I do radio voice. Any suggestions?”
The voice continued, the accent more pronounced than before. “What you need is a romance aid.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the word, romance. “Seriously. I’m sure that would be in four convenient payments of $19.95.” The aid would consist of a minuscule vial of pheromone oil that smelt like sweaty gym socks. Not sure, how that attracted anyone.
Static filled the air as the radio searched for another station. Now. The radio changes stations. The theme music of the old-timey gospel hour filled the car. Elle recognized it since her grandmother always listened to it. A gravel-voiced minister spoke. “Believe. You have to believe. There is no power without belief.”
“Believe what?” Listen to her talk back to the radio, was she in a current day version of The Twilight Zone where everyday device offered advice. Worse yet, she not only talked back but was actually starting to consider the random words as directions for living.
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