I hope this email finds you well

“I hope this email finds you well!”

“Well…” he suppressed a chuckle as he read the email greeting to himself on his phone. He didn’t want to disturb the other commuters on the train, not that any would have heard him over the clickety clack noise of the wheels zooming over the steel. Most were also wearing headphones or buried in a good book. He quickly glanced around the carriage checking he wasn’t being watched, before looking back down at the screen again.

Closing the email app, he pushed the power button and put his phone back into his pocket. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he felt the train shuffle gently from side to side as it made its way away from the city.

“Well?” He thought to himself again, unable to remember the last time he felt well. There was always something tugging at his mind, even in times of supposed peace, like an evening meal with his family, happily chatting about their friends and family, gossiping about their neighbours latest endeavours, and the kids day at school. Then someone would ruin it all by bringing up world events and spoil the moment. He didn’t participate in the conversation, not wanting to get dragged in and saying something he might regret. The subject would eventually change onto something less controversial, but the bitter taste of the conversation lingered in his mouth and mind, unwilling to leave his trail of thought.

Taking a deep breath in, he was starting to relax a little in the warm, cramped and noisy train carriadge. It helped him think a little clearer, helped him organise his thoughts and think more objectively. He had to admit to himself, times had felt tough recently. He would often try to stay positive, realising that many of the people in the world had it much tougher and he should be thankful for what he had, but it was too easy to get sucked into the bad news and the disappointment. The positive attitude would be worn down throughout the day, bit by bit, hour by hour.

Conflicts were escalating and more wars were starting. Natural disasters were getting worse each year, more and more people being affected, the destruction getting worse and worse. Heatwaves breaking records going back centuries. Longer, hotter summers leaving people with less and less clean drinking water. Numbers were proudly displayed on 24 hour news showing the counts and percentages, the numbers going up every hour as the statistics were updated as events unfolded, giving the news channels another chance to bring out their ‘Breaking News!’ banner, flashing it on the screen to their viewers as often as they could for maximum impact.

Everywhere there was something to complain about. Everything seemed to be getting worse. Prices kept going up, but quality kept going down. Not just quality, but quantity too. Everything spread more thinly, lowering the flavour but maximising the profit whilst reducing the costs.

But what could he do about it? Just one person, a cog in the machine. Someone once told him not to worry about things he couldn’t control. His mind started clearing again and a little serenity started calming his troubled thoghts.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, immediately interrupting his thoughts. He didn’t bother to look at his phone though this time, keeping his eyes shut. Trying to rediscover the tranquility of a moment ago, but he couldn’t shake the thought of the notification. Which app was it from, was it urgent, was it more breaking news?

He thought about the most likely situation, knowing it would be another scam email, telling him he had won a prize. All he had to do was click on a link to claim it, then the malware would start downloading onto his device the moment he did. What would it be this time? A Trojan horse? Ransomware? Maybe just a plain old schol virus?

The old world of the politicians and their old-fashioned bureaucratic processes were always behind the tide of technology, never keeping up with the constantly changing worlds of the scammers. The politicians would proudly announce that they had shut down one avenue of the scam, but by then the scammers had already moved on by three steps.

He breathed in deeply again, trying to refocus his mind and think about something else. He thought about his work week ahead for a moment. He couldn’t help it. It was Friday, the end of the work week and the start of the weekend, but the thoughts of his job kept creeping into his supposedly free time. The job used to be fun. It used to be a challenge. It used to be rewarding. But the job had evolved into telling a machine what to do. Where was the joy in that? The machine could now do his job faster than he could, increasing output and increasing profits for shareholders. Every day he was needed less and less. He expected an email any day now saying he wasn’t in the companies plans for the future.

Shaking his head gently, an instinctive act signifying he had given up on trying to force his mind clear, he opened his eyes once more. Retrieving the phone from his pocket, he opened the email app on his phone again and carried on reading. Another impulsive act that he had developed after holding the phone in his hands for so many years, always online, always connected, always available.

“I hope this email finds you well. We have an exciting opportunity for you!”

He pressed a button on the touchscreen device and the email moved out of the inbox and into the junk folder.

Swiping down from the top of the screen, he looked at the icons. His finger hovered over the airplane icon, unsure whether to press it or not. Part of his brain craved the attention the constant updates delivered, the little hit of dopamine over and over again as he doomscrolled through his social feed. But the other part of his brain was stronger, crying out for a break from the mental fatigue. His finger moved down and pressed the button, his phone now offline. He placed it back in his pocket, out of sight and out of mind.

He breathed out a deep sigh of relief. He closed his eyes again and smiled to himself. No, he didn’t feel well, but moving the email to junk definitely made him feel a little better. Disconnecting made him feel even better. He let the gentle swaying of the train comfort him again, some peace finally arriving.

Little wins, he told himself. Keep going, keep fighting, keep believing. Things would get better one day. He knew it.

Photo by Matt Moloney on StockSnap