It was love at first sight. For the baby anyway. One look at that black and gray box, with its glowing green eyes, gentle whirring noise, and the faint scent of warm circuitry and the baby knew his life would never be the same. He crawled towards the box, slowly, transfixed. None of the other flashing lights in the apartment held any attraction for him now. He was a one-device baby.
Once upon a time, there were two little girls whose whimsy levels were well above average. Their respective parents thought them quite bright and planned nice, sensible, stable futures for them, urging them towards nice, sensible, stable career paths. Ultimately, the whimsical little girls became studious and hardworking young women who were scared senseless by the very thought of a future based on doing something they enjoyed. They found themselves in law school, and that seemed to be the end of that.
The once-whimsical young ladies completed law school and immediately began making choices based on fear. Fear of financial insecurity, fear of what was next, and fear of autonomy. One took a job at a large firm with demanding hours and no whimsy whatsoever, while the other began scrambling to pull some kind of respectable adult life together while awaiting the birth of her first child.
A couple of years passed more or less like this—merely existing from one anxiety-ridden decision to the next—until the friends decided to finally take control of their lives and start doing something they loved.
Telling stories.