
Fiction | “The Tweet”
Click.
“He said what? Let me see.”
“No. Wait.”
“Let me see.”
“Okay.”
“I didn’t think he was like that.”
“He’s not.”
“But look what he’s said.”
“It’s a joke.”
“I don’t think it’s a joke.”
“It is a joke.”
“It’s digusting. You can’t say things like that.”
“Look at all the retweets! Look at what they’re saying!”
“Does his Mum and Dad know?”
“I don’t think they know what Twitter is.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say! Look!”
“He’s really pissed them off.”
“I’d die if people left comments like that about me. L-i-t-e-r-a-l-l-y die.”
“I feel sorry for him.”
“Do you think he’ll delete his account?”
“That’s not going to do much good. The Internet is forever.”
“Yeah, but it might help. It might calm it down a bit.”
“I don’t know.”
“I feel sick looking at it.”
“Should we ring him?”
“I don’t know. Do you think he knows?”
“I’ll send him a text.”
“What will you say?”
“Never mind.”
“I want to know.”
“Never mind. You send him a text if you want.”
“Look! That guy says he’ll kill him! Do you think someone would kill him?”
“I don’t know. There are crazy people out there.”
“He’s stupid. He’s so stupid.”
“I never thought he was stupid”
“Mad. He’s mad.”
“Oh! Look how long the thread is now!”
“I don’t feel sorry for him. That was very silly.”
“I feel sorry for him.”
“Move over.”
“Why?”
“I want to see what’s on the telly.”
“Oh. Is it time for that dancing thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh! Look what Trump tweeted.”
“Bloody man, what’s….”
