KISAH Futures Anthology
It was taken a month before his father’s death to the COVID-19 virus, which caused his mother to be so ill with grief that she remained in bed for several months, refusing to do much but cry and sleep. His sisters were too busy with their careers to care for their mother. And himself? He couldn’t believe it. His father was gone — his hero and only friend. Richard sat down at his desk, photograph still in hand. Opening the email that was sent 4 days ago, his laptop screen screen displayed: Dear Mr. Richard Lim, We regret to inform you that your employment at The Bulletin is terminated henceforth due to the economic crisis… As he stared at the screen, he felt droplets of water falling on the photograph and realised he was crying. This uncharacteristic burst of emotion was out of character. What was happening to him? I need people... But he had no one to turn to. Richard opened the article that he had been trying to write for the past week and stared at the title. ‘The Death of Human Interaction’.There was never a more fitting title. “Layla, I…. I need help. How…. how do I…..get people?” “I’m sorry, I do not understand the question.” “I NEED PEOPLE” “Understood. Calling PEOPLE.” The dial tone rang.
89
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs