I paused to rest and to watch the sun hang in the orange sky. Breathing heavily, salt in my hair, and dust on my legs. The weak evening light doing little to warm me. These are the sensations that remind me I’m alive. Exertion. Fatigue. Dirt. Offline. Alone. Chill.
What, I wondered, reminds him that he’s alive? Exertion? Dust? Sweat? Followers? Texts? Is he ever alone? Is he lonely? Why did he come to the top of the hill this evening to look at his phone? Perhaps he gets better reception here.