I stood in the hotel lobby, watching a frail little sprite swaying in the corner. It was tiny, wearing a transparent film-like outfit resembling a phone case that shimmered with multicolored lights as it moved. Its face was etched with two emotions: "social anxiety" and "wanting more likes," while clutching an oversized smartphone with the camera pointed at itself, its expression serious.
"What are you doing?" I asked curiously as I walked over.
The phone sprite widened its eyes but didn't lower the camera. "Selfies! Must take selfies! At least twenty a day, or I'll lose my spiritual power!"
"...Twenty selfies? Are you joking?"
It took a deep breath, turned around, struck an extremely contorted "selfie pose," held the phone far away, and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "Social platforms are too powerful. I have to maintain my image. My follower count seems to have dropped today."
"Wait, what do you mean by... followers?" I clearly didn't understand.
The phone sprite hunched its shoulders slightly, self-conscious. "I'm a phone sprite. You know, phones are everywhere. Everyone holds one in their hands, whether it's their life or their emotions—they all find an outlet on this tiny screen. If my image isn't good enough, I'll be phased out."
I was about to ask why it didn't just put the phone down and live its life when suddenly, the sprite's expression changed. It quickly swiped a few buttons, and the numbers on its phone screen grew larger and larger.
"Oh, there's a new notification today—'Congratulations on gaining a new follower!'" it exclaimed excitedly before turning to me. "See? My followers are back!"
I sighed, thinking to myself: Is this phone sprite a product of magic or technology? I began to notice the "notifications" flickering on its phone screen, almost as if they were the source of its life.
"Maybe you should change something," I said after some thought, pulling a blank talisman from my pocket. "Everyone needs proper relaxation. Don't you think such a hectic life is exhausting?"
The phone sprite paid no mind, still adjusting its camera angle as it replied, "Exhaustion is normal. No pressure, no motivation. You don't understand—the energy of those 'big shots' doesn't come for free."
I smiled, flicked my fingers, and a talisman gently landed on its phone screen. The talisman quickly dissolved, and the phone sprite froze in surprise as its phone screen went black.
Its eyes widened as it frantically pressed the buttons several times. "Why won't it turn on? Why did it disappear?!"
"This is a talisman that helps you 'let go,'" I said. "You can put the phone down. Your emotions, your life—they don't need to revolve around staring at your phone every second."
The phone sprite looked confused but fell silent. After a while, it tentatively set the phone down and looked around the empty lobby. There was a hint of bewilderment in its eyes, along with a trace of long-lost relief.
Suddenly, its eyes lit up as it looked at me. "I get it! Maybe sometimes, putting the phone down is how you find a lifestyle that truly belongs to you! But, wait, I still want to try..."
Then it raised its phone and snapped a photo of the moment, declaring triumphantly, "A keepsake! My spiritual recovery process—count it as a success!"
That day, the phone sprite learned to briefly "let go," though it couldn't resist smiling proudly at the camera afterward. Its identity still revolved around the phone, but at the very least, it no longer relied excessively on endless likes and comments to validate its self-worth.
I recorded this small change in the hotel's ledger—this time, about a sprite living in the digital world slowly coming to understand the meaning of "real."
ns216.73.216.187da2
