Published July 2015
Ebony and Apathy
By Alison Ross
The price of apathy is telepathy, or so I am told by the microchip that lives in my brain. I have learned to surf the wave of the future before it is patented by Bill and his Gates of Hell. Rodin called and wants his search engine back, but I was too busy sculpting something out of the nothingness that resides in my secret soul on certain Thursdays. So he cruised the furthest reaches of the disinformation highway using the sheer power of his Will Shakespeare, who wrote a sonnet for the epitaph of the obituary, which said something to the effect of, "RIP e-books; The Next New Thing is disappearing couplets fueled by lack of interest and running on solar disempowerment." So it goes, etc.
Anyway, her traumatized eyes, which are the Windows 8.1 into her darkest, deepest desires, tell a story that no one listens to but that everyone resents.