Breaking Your Heart




The guy is your best friend.  Or maybe your worst enemy.  A very intrusive enemy.


His name is famous around the grounds of the Olympics.


He may be just a name.  Not a person.  Like a Hologram.  Or robot.  With no soul.


Your Blackberry winces again. Once again, every five minutes or so.  And the name scrolls down.


Craig Bohnert, Breaking News.


It reads, "The U.S. Curling Team improved its record to…………"


In three minutes another wince by the Blackberry.


Craig Bohnert, Breaking News


"The women’s biathlon team finished……."


It goes on like a giant heartbeat into the night.  Late into the night.


You have to look.  You can’t ignore it.  It’s hypnotic.  You have to have it.  


Like Oxygen.


There have been reported sightings of Craig Bohnert.


A footprint by the bathroom in the MPC.  A sudden movement in the mixed zone.  Low laughter outside the media workroom.  Nothing definite.  Traces.


They say he’s from Kansas.  Or Panama.


Wavy blonde hair.  No hair.  A tall guy.  No more than 5-7.  Could be a woman.  Or have an eye patch.


Or maybe not.


But, the real question is …"What happens after the Olympics?"


How do you keep up?  Maybe you expect some words to guide you through your day.


Craig Bohnert, Breaking News.

"Your wife is at the grocery store.  She picked up milk and celery."


But, it doesn’t come.  You look at your Blackberry and it just blinks back at you …in the dark.  Your face glistens in the soft light.


But, he’s not there.  Maybe he never was.