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Phones are dangerous

Phones kill

There’s a boy walking down the street, clutching a toy in his hands,

His mother slightly behind him. Cigarette in one hand, phone in the other,

He turns around and says “Mommy, I want to go to the beach and play in the sand”,

She ignores him, eyes fixed on her screen. She doesn’t even notice the souther.

Matt’s driving home from work, he takes the usual route,

He glances upwards, the road looks empty so he pulls out his phone,

He’s scrolling through his playlist, he doesn’t even notice the flutter of the coot,

Looks out of the corner of his eye, sees the boy but it’s too late. He hears the shatter of a cheekbone.

She hears a gruesome sound and immediately looks up from her phone,

She can’t quite process what she sees, horror, shock and then nothing,

Everything came to a halt, murmurs and whispers filled the air and then a weak groan,

“The boy’s alive” someone yelled. Eyes open, toy still in hand, he was on the floor huffing