Please, Let Me Be Alone With My Thoughts
How I’m rediscovering my analog self in a digital world
The inflatable pool rafts are a mixture of neon yellow, blue, and red. We considered using real mattresses, but dragging our beds outside could raise unwanted suspicion. So instead, my neighbors and I pile the pool rafts on top of one another underneath a large oak tree.
A chorus of voices begins to chide my growing hesitation. Below the tangle of branches, my brother — along with two of our neighbors — peers upward. Looking down, I hesitate again, grasping the large limb of a branch.
“Come onnnn… jump!” my brother whines. “It’s fun, I promise!” and he holds up two fingers in the “Scout’s Honor” salute. The prodding makes my face flush, and a few seconds later I leap into the void.
Down I fall, until I land with a jarring impact. The rafts bounce me forward, then shoot out in every direction, doing nothing to ease the impact. I hit the Earth on the return bounce with a thud, and every bit of air escapes my lungs. As I gasp for breath, a face peers over me and asks, “You okay?” I grimace, then nod, still trying to catch my breath. A hand extends and I’m pulled to my feet while my body groans in protest. Standing, I bend to brush dirt from my banana-yellow Converse high tops, then stand gulping air. I shade…
