Bee, Bumble, Fluke and Moo sat on the steps of Paragon, index and middle fingers stretched to form the always recognizable peace sign. Each was grinning ear to ear, as Moo, with an outstretched hand struggled to capture all four within the viewfinder of her Samsung galaxy 6. "Click," another perfect group selfie to prove to the world that they did in fact end up at the steps of the monolith, after enjoying boiled meat at the swanky MK Suki within it's safe and bustling interior.

Moo, as she had done twice a week, at least, from that very spot, immediately clicked the Facebook app, conveniently placed next to her phone, email, and Instagram icons. Patiently, she waited for the program to connect, excited to share her latest triumph with 200 of her best friends. The group spoke as they waited about the guest list and invitations that still needed to be sent for Flukes 23rd birthday. A minute went by, then another...Moo closed then reopened the app...but the same continued.

Bumble, noticed the concerned look on Moo's face, and quickly grabbed her iPhone 5s, instructed Moo to Line her the picture, and she would try, noting Bangkok's sometimes unreliable 3G. Confidently, and with lighting quick precision, she entered her password, downloaded the picture, sending a line reply of a bear and rabbit high-fiving. She quickly moved the blue and white icon, used so often that her fingerprints marked the spot from the last time she opened it. Again, nothing...in quick succession, Bee and Fluke made similar attempts, and each was met by the same result.

The first 10 minutes: In unison, their phones vibrated, along with the other 3-4000 people walking on the sidewalk. Heads bent, they read the news...FB had been blocked...a gasp was heard coming from the area. Some dropped to their knees, hands held tightly over their eyes to hide the tears. Others started pacing, having just taken the most glorious pictures of their Mos* Burger. It all seemed like a monumental waste. The price of the phone, the minutia required to set up an account. What was the point? No one could see it anymore.

10-20 minutes: Paragon had gone quiet. Some had relegated themselves to the fact that perhaps the Line messages were correct, and had started to move upstairs...not sure what would happen when they got to the top...but most, bewildered and still in shock exited the mega-mall, slowing spilling out, still hitting refresh, heads down. The sparkles that had once occupied their eyes had gone. Glassy stares, slumped shoulders, and a mixture of desperation and disparity had taken over. Out of the crowd, a shriek was heard. Bloodcurdling and murderous, the thousands that had gathered in the shade of Siam BtS station looked up in unison.

The next 10 minutes: a young lady, dressed in traditional black and white school uniform, a chula pin firmly affixed to collar, balling and barely able to breath, announced that she could no longer connect to Instagram. Just as everyone had perked up, their heads snapped back to their mobile devices. Clamoring clumsily to input passwords, find their apps...umbrellas flew, bags dropped...could it be true? Had the very lifeblood of the country been stripped from them. From those that dutifully had adhered to the curfew, those that had sacrificed 7-11 hotdogs, rice sandwiches, and salapoa?

The next 10 minutes: a young man, no older than Fluke had at this point procured a loud speaker. The evidence was just too solid. He stood atop the steps overlooking the mob that had gathered. Beet red, enraged and flailing like a wacky-inflatable blowup doll. He swiftly threw his Nokia to the ground, glass shattered into the first few rows of the congregation that had now swarmed his position. The phone was now useless, no longer able to contact anyone, receive updates, or able to "like" posts...it had become a paperweight. Some in the crowd, now whipped into a frenzy, followed suit. Others took to Line to broadcast their anger.

The last 5 minutes: Bee, Bumble, Moo and Fluke, fueled with the realization that shit had just gotten real, fell into place as an ocean of humanity moved in unison from their stoop under Siam. Fluke had already tossed his phone into a sewer. Moo who had been frantically texting, lining, and taking pictures, continued her torrid pace. Bumble and Bee were shells of their former selves. Unable to even to look at or hold onto their phones anymore, the two walked in tandem, faces glistening from the vestiges of their sadnesss, phones rocking back and forth from the straps holding them firmly around their necks.

The crowd, now numbering in the thousands, walked past office buildings and the surrounding malls. The ground littered with the final resting places of many a personal communication device, seemingly hurled out of windows, cars, motorcycles, or simply just tossed down by other pedestrians. The crowd moved methodically, slowly, glass crunching under their feet. There was no final destination, no one had really thought this out that far.

Moo stared intently at her phone as she marched in line. Crunch, crunch, crunch...each step, fueling the crowd onward to places unknown. She looked up briefly, the sun seemed to be much hotter than usual, then she remembered that she had discarded her umbrella at the first inclination that her world had collapsed. Her phone, covered with a decorative Dorimon protective cover lit up, and buzzed subtly in her firm grip. She looked down, and her eyes widened.

Bee, through her tears had suddenly noticed Moo standing still. Some of the crowd had followed suit. She cautiously moved towards her friend, worried that the news was even worse than what had already happened. Had Twitter gone offline? What about whatsapp? Bee started to hyperventilate...Moo, slowly looked up from her phone...grabbed Bee's hand and gently whispered into her ear..."Bee, it was just a glitch in the Gateway, nah."

If you also have an account of this, please do share. sorry for wall of words...

Edit: Mos*