THE NEGATIVE KEYPAD
Deseray held the smartphone in her hand, eyes locked on the keypad. The 8-bit Oracle told her that resurrection was different for digital devices than people. "When people come back, sometimes they carry a touch of the afterlife with them. Voices from beyond, notes from the dead. But your phone dies far more often a person ever will, giving it direct lines of communication with the hereafter."
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She watched as the oracle played pinball on a lifeless machine, slapping the buttons as a phantom sphere silently floated through the catacombs beneath the glass. The oracle continued "But it isnt a human afterlife it connects to. Its the place where dropped calls go to die. A land of slurried 4G signals & malfunctioning Wi-Fi frequencies. Its the place where unfinished conversations converge." Deseray couldnt tell if the oracle was speaking to her or around her, but she could sense the authenticity of her digitized words, could feel the sincerity behind her blinking diode eyes.
"So, what do I do with it?" she asked & the 8-bit Oracle stopped playing her dead pinball machine & walked back to the table with Deseray. "Let it die tonight. Let the cellphones battery drain to zero & cut off. Wait ten minutes then click the power button thrice. This will access the Negative Keypad." Deseray could hear gears turning beneath the oracles hood. A heavy, poorly oiled sound that relentlessly churned, printing out the sparks of this seerers mind. It was unnerving, but she didnt flinch at its sound, fearing the oracles reaction to such rudeness. "You can dial anyone’s mind with the Negative Keypad, hear the thoughts of any person in your contacts. But be warned. Listen for to the wrong mind for too long & youll end up as one of those dropped calls I told you about. Stuck as a memory in the mind of the person youve dialed."
A week later Deseray, curious about the secrets of the seer, went through the steps to activate the Negative Keypad, then dialed the oracles number. It only took a few seconds for her to understand what a mistake she’d made. The sound of her own crying bleeding back into her own mind as she began to do the same. A feedback loop of agony laced with the over processed laughter of the one who warned her. The oracle would always have fond memories of dear Deseray.
