ATLANTA, GA—Area man Christopher Beach, 46, was thrust into a panic on the Thursday commute when his cellular phone shut down due to low battery charge.
Although he normally makes sure to keep the phone fully charged at the day's beginning, and has a charging cord at his place of business, he had neglected to charge it the night before, and a series of meetings had prevented him from charging it throughout his day.
Beach, who is a patent attorney, went merrily about his day, unaware of the ticking time bomb in his jacket pocket. As he made his way to the subway, he plugged in his ear buds to listen to a podcast and, incidentally, avoid facing the utter meaninglessness residing deep within his soul.
As if some unconscious struggle that would make Sigmund Freud squeal with delight was destined to rise to the surface, Mr. Beach ostensibly took no notice of the dwindling charge on his phone's notification bar, and dismissed each warning with striking hubris.
Approximately 2 minutes into his 16-minute commute home, Beach's phone shut down. Witnesses recall the precise moment that the device played the descending scale tone to indicate it was powering off. "The 'shutdown' tone played, and I looked up to see who's it was," shared Tony Updike, 33. "I saw [Beach] there, and he first had this blank stare on his face like he didn't know what had just happened. He looked down at his phone, and then all at once he realized the mess he was in."
Gina Baylian, 29, explained what she saw. "I think I saw the whole thing in slow motion. His face went from like 'normal commuter'—you know, like a guy who just finished a hard day at work and was just waiting to get home—and then slowly transformed into pure horror. There was this exact moment when he realized that he had nothing standing between him and his inner demons, and you could just see in his eyes that he had no hope."
Mr. Beach reportedly checked his pockets in the off chance that he had some device—an mp3 player, or even an e-reader—that could rescue him from the next several minutes, but alas, the fates had apparently determined that his mind should stir up thoughts and fears he had deeply buried under a mountain of titles, material goods, and tokens that are ultimately meaningless.
Beach seemed to try to find something to read on the walls of the subway train, then to people watch and imagine what the passengers' stories were, but this only led his mind back to the ensnaring despondency that he feels creeping in in the last few seconds between shutting down his tablet for the night and drifting off to sleep. Like a helpless castaway, Beach stood on the gently rocking train, staring down simultaneously his mortality, waxing alcoholism, lack of commitment to his current romantic partner, and his repressed racism.
"For probably 5 whole minutes I thought he was going to just start sobbing like a little girl right there on the train," related onlooker Renisha Halloway, 64. "I almost missed my stop, 'cause I couldn't look away."
"This guy has got some serious issues," added Helen Quiroz, 43. "I saw that same look once in my life, when my uncle Fernando heard that he'd gotten a 30-year sentence."
When Beach came to his stop, he was seen bursting out of the train door to find his parked car. He could then be observed with his head resting on the steering wheel, playing very loud heavy metal music for several minutes before finally driving home to his large, immaculate, and yet somehow completely devoid of purpose, house.
He now keeps two fully charged batteries on his person at all times, should the unthinkable happen.