You are talking, but nobody can hear you. I checked. Your mouth is moving and your hands are doing that big shape in the air like you are explaining something huge, and there is a little red line through the microphone picture, which means all of it goes nowhere.
Then you saw the red line. And you did the thing where your whole face falls, and you said "sorry, I was on mute" in the small voice, and everybody laughed the not-real laugh, and you laughed it too.
I used to think grown-ups got to say whatever they wanted. That was the whole reason to become one. You could talk at dinner without raising your hand. You could pick the radio station.
But look at your little squares of faces. Twelve of you, in twelve boxes, in twelve different rooms, all nodding. You are not even looking at each other. You are looking at yourself in the corner, fixing your hair.
Here is the thing I want to know. Before, when the red line was on and nobody could hear you, what were you really saying? Because your hands were moving so big. Bigger than they move when the line is off.
Was it something true? Say that one next. Not on mute.
The real one, with the big hands.