با گوشی او، از راه دور عشق را تازه کن

Priscila had spent three weeks preparing for the interview. Rodrigo had made her sandwich, ironed her shirt, told her everything he had to tell her. At 11:04 a.m. on the day of the interview, Priscila was waiting in the lobby of an office with three-story-tall windows. She picked up her phone out of anxiety. On her lock screen she saw a photo of herself cooking that Rodrigo had taken without her noticing the weekend before, with a line written over it: I know you're going to be amazing, and if not I still love you. Priscila laughed out loud by herself in the lobby. She walked into the interview with a different face. A week later they gave her the job. It wasn't because of the wallpaper, but it was also because of the wallpaper.

They'd fought over something silly, but hard, with capital letters and long silences. Txell was at the office and Unai was at home, both stewing. At 1:42 p.m., in the middle of the awkward silence, Unai opened LockLove and, without sending a single WhatsApp message, left her a wallpaper with a photo of an old argument, years back, that they'd ended up laughing about, with a tiny line of text: we've won this one too. Txell saw it when she picked up her phone to order lunch. She didn't reply right away. But when she got home that night she said thanks for the wallpaper, and Unai knew the argument was buried. The surprise was the bridge, not the apology.

It wasn't an anniversary. There was no interview, no argument, no nothing. It was a gray Tuesday in November. At 3:48 p.m., while Zaira was on the metro coming back from the dentist, Ximena left her a wallpaper with a ridiculous photo of the cat wearing a Santa hat from three years ago and a line that just said: for nothing. Zaira pulled out her phone in the train car and laughed to herself. Two women she didn't know looked up. That entire Tuesday changed color because of a photo of her cat, seen at 3:48 p.m. for no reason. That's what WhatsApp can't do anymore.