Novel & Cerita A World Without Email

Marcus The number of times I have refreshed my email is not healthy, and I am surprised I have not broken my keyboard with the many frustrated clicks. It’s been a few days since I sent the email, and while I didn’t think the reply would be instantaneous, I still didn’t think it would take days! But checking all the news on Marcus’s company, I can see how busy he can be juggling celebrities, athletes, politicians, and brands. It’s almost hard to imagine my shy broken Marcus was responsible for this huge successful entity. Still, a large part of me is so proud that he overcame his issues enough to put himself out there and leave such a huge mark in the world. When my email pings, I am buried i

So, no matter when or where, she would always make sure she dealt with the emails promptly. Abigail hurriedly took out her phone and opened the email application. She was surprised to find that the sender of the new email was Emma. The email was a very long letter. The content read: [Abigail, when you're reading this email, I've probably left this world for another place. I haven't done any good deeds in my life, nor have I done any bad things. So, I believe the place I'll be going to should be heaven. Since it'll be heaven, it should be better than my current situation. I'll probably be very happy there. So, please don't feel sad and sorry for me.

Then, on the email application were a series of unread emails that I needed to read later and reply to the important ones. A heavy sigh escaped my throat. Working without a secretary could be hectic and tiring as hell, but for Hazel and to finally be at peace after all of these, I could do it. With that thought in mind, I started working my ass out again and never stopped till everything was finally in place.

A long silence hung in the air, much like the fading daylight outside, slowly being swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Just as I thought I might have offended LLC and that they might never reply to me again, a new email notification popped up. "Send it to me at the address above."

The energy coming off of him felt like walking into a brewing thunderstorm. He turned and fixed me with his intense gaze. “It’s not a sane world. Explain.” Well, that was an alpha command if I’d ever heard one. Another hard swallow, because I couldn’t seem to clear the lump in my throat. But this was Colin. I could tell him anything. “I’ve been getting these emails…” Colin listened without interruption as I haltingly got out the story of the bizarre recruitment emails, including pulling up the last one on my phone to show him how it’d taken a turn for the threatening.

I never knew I could desire someone so much. As we silently glide across the empty streets of the city, something strikes me. I haven't checked my emails since before I left for the gig. Perhaps it would be wise to do that before we get on the plane and I have to switch my phone to airplane mode for several hours. So, I pull up my emails, filtering through all the promotions and newsletters, until one email catches my eye. The subject line says: “Update on Mrs. Lindsey Williams’ progress.” It’s about my mother. I quickly tap the screen to open the contents of the email.

Both — and also, after both, the return. The specific, quiet, magnificent return to the self that had been waiting. I read every response that came to the newsletter's inbox. Not quickly — carefully, with the full attention that each one deserved. Because each one was a woman. A specific, real, breathing woman in Atlanta or London or Lagos or Sydney or Des Moines or Tokyo or Nairobi or the apartment three floors down from someone who had no idea what she was carrying. I could not respond to all of them. The volume made that impossible and Dr. Webb had already observed, with characteristic directness, that responding to emails was not the most efficient use of my time when there was research

This was all weird. A while later, I pulled out my laptop and settled on my bed. If I couldn’t get across to my family through a hand-written letter, I’d email my brother. There was no way a laptop could disappear into thin air and erupt maggots in its wake…right? Besides, on a deeper thought, an email would be at less risk of being discovered by others.

“It is said he was a great man from God. His name was Elijah; he was also a great Prophet on Earth many years ago. He claims God sent him to proclaim hope to all worlds.” “How did you find this out?” I asked fascinated. “We do have technology on our worlds; we too have what is called the internet.” I laughed “So our worlds are not of dark ages like the appearance.” I smiled as I said it. “We chose not to pollute our world, as Earth does with cars and such, but we do prefer to live simply to keep the beauty of our worlds. But we are not without technology or electricity which is not created by nuclear power as Earth. It is generated more naturally.”

Her desperation had played right into his hands, and now he was ready to capitalize on it. He unlocked his phone and opened his email app. “Which one should I use?” He murmured, his brow furrowed in thought. It had to be something untraceable, an email that wouldn’t raise suspicions. Suddenly, an old account came to mind, one he hadn’t touched in years. His fingers danced over the screen as he typed, wfricker1156@g***l.com. “This will do perfectly,” he said with a grin, his heart pounding as he began to compose the email.