Tuesday, April 18, 2023

A Tale Told In Texts

Occasionally, I get texts by mistake. 

I know I'm supposed to notify whoever sent the text that it's gone to the wrong number. Which I do, unless it's a group text. Then I let it unwind for a while. I figure it's harmless, and since I'm a writer and a social voyeur, I enjoy it. 

There was the time I was (incredibly) copied on an email chain in Montana or Idaho or somewhere up there, and it was a group of high-level Republicans talking about election conspiracies and how Democrats were stealing elections. 

I mean, "Bill Harris," right? Lots of those running around. Easy to make a mistake. Suddenly, I was in Crazytown 3000. 

Oh, and if you were wondering, those people were irrational to a degree that astounded me, and I'm being polite. 

So. 

Saturday  morning, I got a group text. This text:




















Okay, that seems fairly comprehensible. I decided to hang around, though, because who knew where this would go?

I had no idea. 

Seven hours later, this text:
Hope all goes well and god bless your family. 

Hmm, that seems like a slightly different tone from a fun family gathering. 

Three hours later:
Today at 12 o clock



















BAM! There's the plot twist no one was expecting. "Accident" or longstanding family grudges boiling over into violent combat?

Accident, probably. 

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