…wherein this story gets a cliché title…
Sharon’s car glided down the freeway, late in the night under the patter of light showers.
She hummed to herself, one arm on the steering wheel, the other making a meal of her phone’s screen as she scrolled up and down her Facebook timeline. She glared gleefully at the latest iteration of her friends exploits with the latest trend to hit the ether: a Facebook app that predicted hilarious ways in which people would die.
She chuckled when Victor, her best friend, posted his result: death by suffocation under a heap of elephant dung. She thought it might spook him to tell him their boss was planning a safari retreat for the end of the year.
Barbara, that snobbish girl from HR, would die from having her head stuck in the poop chute of a donkey. Never mind how her head would end up there in the first place, it made Sharon laugh so much because it seemed absolutely fitting.
Hooked in as she was by the prospects of humor that lay behind her interaction with the app, she submitted her own query. The result played back on her screen in fun, multi sized fonts that danced up and down:
‘You will die in a horrifying and completely avoidable road accident. Cheers!’
She stared at the words as if they made very little sense.
‘Well that’s not funny at all!’ She exclaimed.
And because she desired to be entertained and would not have it any other way except that which pleased her, she hit the refresh button, and then again, and again…