Autopilot

Have you ever forgotten your phone at home??
When you realized that you had forgotten him? I don’t think you hit yourself in the forehead and exclaimed, "Oh crap."!». Realization most likely did not descend on you out of the blue. Most likely, you reached for your phone, in your pocket or bag, and were immediately surprised by the fact that it was missing. And then you start replaying in your head step by step everything you did this morning.
Shit.
In my case, the alarm on my phone woke me up as usual, but when I woke up, I realized that the battery charge was less than I thought. The phone was new and it had a very annoying feature – instead of closing apps, it would just minimize them and they would gradually drain the battery all night long. So before I got in the shower I put it on charger instead of throwing it in my bag like I usually did. It was a minor deviation from the routine, but it was enough. As soon as I turned on the shower, my brain returned to the routine it follows every morning and… that’s it.
Forgot.
As I learned later, it wasn’t that I was so forgetful, it was a known function of the brain. Your brain doesn’t work on just one level, it works on several levels at once. For example, when you walk somewhere, you think about the destination and about not getting hit by a car, but you don’t have to think about how to move your feet correctly. So I wasn’t thinking about how to breathe properly, instead I was wondering if I should grab a cup of coffee on the way to work (intercepted). I wasn’t thinking about how to squeeze my breakfast through my intestines, I was wondering whether I would be able to finish my work at work in time to pick up my daughter Emily from kindergarten or whether I would have to pay a fine for being late again. This is the whole reason; there is a part of your brain that gets rid of all the routine so that the rest of you can think about other things.
Think about it. Think about your commute to work today? What do you remember about it? Most likely not much, if you remember anything at all. Many identical movements merge into one, and it is scientifically proven that it will be quite difficult to remember any specific one. Start doing something quite often and it will become a routine. Keep doing this and it will stop being processed by the thinking part of the brain and will be transferred to the part that deals with routine. Your brain does this all the time, but you don’t even realize it. Pretty quickly you start thinking about your commute the same way you think about moving your legs while walking. That is, no way.
Many people call it autopilot. But there is danger in it. If you interrupt your routine, your ability to remember and respond to that interruption can only be as good as your ability to prevent your brain from falling into routine mode. I can only rely on my ability to remember that my phone is on the shelf as much as I can rely on my ability to prevent my brain from entering a “morning routine” mode that would dictate to me that my phone is in my bag. But I didn’t prevent it. I took a shower as usual. The routine has begun. Exception forgotten.
Autopilot enabled.
My brain is back to routine. I showered, shaved, the radio forecast great weather. I fed Emily breakfast and got her into the car. She was especially sweet this morning, she kept complaining about the “bad sun” that blinded her and kept her from dozing off on the way to kindergarten. I dropped her off at the kindergarten and left. It’s a routine. The fact that my phone was quietly charging and lying on the shelf did not matter in the slightest. My brain was in a routine, and in a routine my phone was in my bag. That’s why I forgot my phone. Don’t forget. Not inattention. Only my brain, which entered routine mode and rewrote the exception.
Autopilot enabled.
I went to work. Even though the day had just begun, it was already incredibly stuffy and hot. The “bad” sun began to burn even before my treacherously absent phone woke me up. The steering wheel was scalding hot when I got into the car. I thought I heard Emily move into the driver’s seat to get out of the sun. But I arrived at work. Sent a report. Attended morning meeting. And only when I took a short coffee break and reached for my phone did the illusion collapse. I replayed my morning in my head. Remembered the dead battery. I remember putting my phone on charge. I remember leaving it there.
My phone was on the shelf.
Autopilot disabled.
Once again, danger lurks here. Until you have that moment, the moment when you reach for your phone and break the illusion, that same part of the brain is still in routine mode. She has no reason to question the facts of routine; that’s why it’s a routine. Repeat after repeat. It’s not like anyone could say, "Why didn’t you remember your phone? How did this not occur to you?? How did you forget? You must just be inattentive.". To say this means to completely misunderstand what’s going on. My brain insisted that the routine was fine, even though it wasn’t. It’s not that I forgot my phone. According to my brain, according to routine, my phone was in my bag. Why would I suddenly doubt this?? Why would I decide to check if this is true?? Why would I suddenly, completely out of nowhere, remember that my phone was on the shelf?? My brain was in a routine, and the routine claimed that the phone was in the bag.
The day was getting hotter. The morning haze gave way to the unrelenting heat of the afternoon. People traded coffee for iced cocktails. Jackets were taken off, sleeves were rolled up and ties were loosened. The parks gradually filled with sunbathers and those wishing to have a picnic. Window frames tended to become deformed. The thermometer bar continued to rise. How good it is that air conditioning was installed in the offices.
However, as always, the heat of the day gave way to the coolness of the evening. God willing, God will give you food. Still cursing myself for the forgotten phone, I went home. The afternoon sun thoroughly fried the inside of my car, releasing a disgusting smell from somewhere. I got home and started parking, hearing the familiar crunch of stones under the wheels. My wife met me at the door.
"Where’s Emily??»
Shit.
As if the phone wasn’t enough! After all this, I still forgot Emily in this damn kindergarten. I got into the car and rushed back. I was walking towards the door, making excuses in my head, hoping that I could convince the nurse not to charge me a late fee, when suddenly I saw a piece of paper taped to the door.
“Due to an act of vandalism that occurred overnight, please use the door at the end. Just for today"
At night? What? The door was ok this time..
I froze. My knees started to shake.
Vandals. Changing your routine.
My phone was on the shelf.
I wasn’t here this morning.
My phone was on the shelf.
I drove by because I was drinking my coffee. I didn’t drop Emily off.
My phone was on the shelf.
She moved to another seat. I didn’t see her in the mirror.
My phone was on the shelf.
She fell asleep in the shade, tired of the sun. That’s why she was silent when I drove past the kindergarten.
My phone was on the shelf.
She changed the routine.
My phone was on the shelf.
She changed the routine and I forgot to drop her off.
My phone was on the shelf.
9 o’clock. In this car. Under the baking sun. No air. No water. Powerless and helpless. This heat. Steering wheel too hot to touch.
This smell.
I walked up to the car. Numb. Shocked.
I opened the door.
My phone was on the shelf. And my daughter was dead.
Autopilot disabled.

Best comments

Well there is a little, yes. Not very plausible, but I was still hooked, and so were the Redditors, judging by the fact that the story was given the “story of the month” award.

Well, I fully admit https://nodepositbonuscasinos.co.uk/review/winstler-casino/ that all the other stories this month were much worse. In addition, the following effect can occur: if you read boring nonsense all the time, then against its background a sane, even the most ordinary, story will seem like a masterpiece of literature and a breath of clean air.

It’s interestingly written, one note: do not confuse conditioned reflexes and functions of the autonomic nervous system.

I personally liked it, I just love something like that. And it was read in a very appropriate voice, so overall great.

Something didn’t grab me ((If this is an introduction to something more, then good. And so… Yes, and this manic obsession with the phone! Something has gotten out of the usual rhythm – think, change, but don’t whine and don’t get hysterical “Phone, phone. »

The part about the telephone is an introduction that is deliberately written in such a way that the narrative is marking time. You read and think “okay, phone. yeah, phone. Apparently it will continue to be about the phone too,” and then comes the unexpected ending. And the whole story – no, not an introduction, this is a finished work.

The story is stupid. The plot was just sucked out of thin air, the text was pure graphomania. There are no complaints about the translation.