The box came into the world.
After it was pulled out of its’ wrapping, it was set on the table. And there it waited to see the world.
It didn’t have to wait long, that unimpressive metal box with tire tracks across its dumb face. It was just a box with a few eyes added to it.
It should have amounted to nothing, that little box, but there was a power to it, a power and an allure. People began to flock to the box. They stood in line, offering their fake happiness to it.
The box gave them exactly what they offered it, and they were delighted.
The box sucked up their smiling faces. Devoured their sunhats and the makeup they used to fool the box into thinking they had better skin than they really did.
The box knew the truth.
The people exposed the little box to the world. It saw elephants in India, lions in Africa, and buffalo in North America. It gobbled up the cobblestones of San Miguel and the sandy beaches of Thailand.
People couldn’t resist its silent charm. Allure grew like a swell until it became a tidal wave of obsession.
People began to stop their meals, pausing until they’d offered the box a look at their food. They began to be paralyzed without it. They couldn’t love without first proving to the box the strength of their affection. Every experience was a simple act of pleasing the box.
People forgot that there was a time before the little eyes: a time before the camera.
Note: That’s where my mind went with that picture. Where does yours go? Comment with your own free-write.