Deleted

It was two days since he had a ‘Like.’ To the minute.

He knew because the final countdown had started. Thirty minutes remaining. The figures marked off against a neon desk top.

The Community of the People - family, friends, neighbours - were mandated by the Ministry of Self Actualisation to determine who was worthy. All had ten ‘Likes’ per day to allocate amongst the most estimable, righteous and virtuous in their blocks.

Fifteen minutes. Still no ‘Likes.’

He had to take ultimate responsibility for his lack of repute.

Sixty seconds. Still no ‘Likes.’

He reached for the keyboard.

‘Ctrl’ ‘self delete.'