Revolution In The Time Of Facebook Addiction – Part 9

Then one day, a neighbour came running into the street with a look of terror in his eyes.

“They are coming, they are coming!”

The street seemed to know who was being referred to, they were not immune to the tragedies that were happening beyond their paved road. People rushed to take away what precious goods they had in their stalls, their children, their beloved chairs of many years, their old tattered photos and odd mementos of life on the street. All were swept up in an arcane rush, the extent of which had been practised during previous false alarms. But this time it was real. Within seconds, a convoy of army trucks had arrived. They were filled with soldiers, menacing, the steel blades of their guns glistening in the sun. The convoy paused at the end of the street. But they did not disembark.

A loudspeaker announced “We are looking for the Facebook addict. Do not shelter those who are suffering from Facebook addiction, because you too will suffer. We know that there are Facebook addicts in this area, because we have heard it and seen it. Our people have been here. They know that these streets are full of Facebook addicts. Bring them to us and you will be unharmed.”

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the truck moved on. The soldiers menacing look, which had frozen the street to an unnatural pause, continued as the truck cleared out of view. Then the street was suddenly alive again, only quieter.