Moments of Literature: Cosmic Cathartic

Stuck In A Crack

"Why did I have to get stranded here?" I moaned, feeling the searing heat against my back as I slouched in the driver's seat, my hands tightly gripping an almost empty water bottle. The relentless desert sun bore down on me, and I shielded my eyes, squinting at the vast expanse of arid land before me. "Why couldn't I have just visited my parents during summer break? Like a normal person?"

My phone, a relic from three years past, lay dormant on the passenger seat. Its cracked screen sparkled in the unforgiving Death Valley sun, its battery mercilessly drained to zero percent.

"You shouldn't have listened to me," it seemed to whisper, taunting me. "You shouldn't have decided to go cross-country to all the national parks. Then you wouldn't have been stuck here."

"Shut up," I retorted, annoyance seeping into my voice as I glanced down at my phone with disdain. "You're stuck here in this car too."

An eerie silence followed, broken only by the distant hum of the desert wind. My spiteful glare continued to pierce through the still air as I internally cursed the phone for inspiring this ill-fated cross-country trip. Alone, with no friends or relatives, I found myself in some of the most dangerous parks in the U.S., armed only with a cracked-up phone for GPS.

"Who was right?" my phone taunted in a sing-song voice. Its cracks seemed to align into a twisted smile, and the sunshine glinting off it appeared as a malicious sparkle in its eyes.

"I said shut up," I weakly replied, turning away. The scorching heat in the car made me grow tired, preventing me from giving a good hollering to this mocking device.

In reality, it remained silent, not uttering a word. Probably just as despairing as me in this seemingly hopeless situation.

My desperation intensified as I poured the remaining water on it, drenching the phone and a part of the passenger seat. The liquid seeped into its cracks and charger plug-ins, causing it to short circuit and spark.

"You fool!" it cried out, sparking and crackling, a dark puddle forming under it. "Now you're really not getting any help! Did you forget about the charger in the glove box, the pink one with rainbow candy stripes?"

My eyes widened, and hope surged within me. Rushing to the glove box, I found the charger the phone had mentioned. I could charge up my phone, turn on the data, and call for help.

But my heart sank when I realized what I had done. I turned back to my phone, now lying drenched in a quickly drying spot on the seat, letting out one last croak of laughter. I shook my head, frustration and despair mingling in my mind. How could I have overlooked the one thing that might have saved me?

As I plugged in the charger, a sinking feeling enveloped me. The phone's screen flickered, but it was too late. The damage was done. I watched helplessly as it sputtered and died, leaving me alone in the scorching heat of Death Valley.

I sat back, defeated, the weight of my poor decisions pressing on me. The irony of my predicament wasn't lost on me. Alone, in the middle of nowhere, with a dead phone and a dried-up bottle of water.

Hours passed, and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape. The temperature plummeted, and the cold desert night set in. I huddled in the car, a solitary figure in the vast darkness, my only company the haunting silence of the desert.

As I stared into the abyss outside, a sense of regret gnawed at me. The allure of a spontaneous cross-country trip had blinded me to the risks. The cracked phone lay silent, a stark reminder of my choices.

And so, I waited, hoping for a passing car or a stroke of luck to rescue me from the unforgiving embrace of Death Valley. The night stretched on, and the stars above offered no solace, only an indifferent gaze upon my solitary plight.