PLOT
My moving date was nearing, and my camera stopped working for no apparent reason. On the way back to my hometown where my old camera was kept, I called a few friends. We talked about popular songs, machine life expectancy, and each other’s health. As I cover my blushed cheeks with my hands, the car navigator tells me that it will search for the current location again. Places I saw in my dreams appear and disappear before my eyes, and when I step on a pedal according to
signals on the screen, a white ball suddenly comes upon an artificial grass. Heading back home, I imagine a giant hole in the middle of random landscapes passing by.