As Victor was waiting for the next bus to take him away from that pitiful place, he spotted a young man on a bench. The boy, as he was a mere boy, was sitting twisted: facing the back of the bench, and his back getting the most of the warm late October sun. He was leaning against the back of the bench, carelessly tapping the screen of the mobile phone, hugging his backpack. Victor wondered where the boy was going. Victor was sick of technology taking over the life of man. He wanted to go away, as far as possible. He made no plan for this journey. He decided to jump on the next bus, and go to the terminus. He did not check any schedule, or route. He wanted to get away from the intoxicating technology and from the intoxicated people. Victor felt sorry for the boy in front of him. He wished he could just snatch the awful device and throw it away. He wanted to grab the boy by the shoulders and shake him out of his addicted state. But he knew that was to no avail. Victor knew that there was no way to escape technology. He could not move technology. Therefore, he moved himself.
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