Is Swiping Now Like Breathing?
By observing, we realise what matters most.
I was on my way to work, sitting on the train with a book and looking around — discreetly. I do that before getting lost in the pages.
Almost everyone was on their phone. Some were reading, talking with companions, smiling into their screens. And the rest? Their thumbs moved in rhythm.
Swiping. Swiping.
Like breathing.
Well, almost.
Then it occurred to me. What are we searching for in those scrolls? Comfort, escape, a digital companion, or just habit?
We can’t even wait to open our phones the moment we sit down.
I watched a woman pause mid-swipe long enough to sip her coffee.
Then she started swiping again. And that’s when the strange idea hit me:
If I had magic, I’d say, “Abracadabra! Make all the phones vanish!”
Including mine.
For a few minutes.
To see what might return to the room.
