Stumped Senior

         "Did you hear that Myrtle? That little ping means someone has sent me a test."

         Myrtle stared at her friend of seventy years seated next to her on the bus.

         "I believe you mean a text Gertie dear. Who's it from?"

         Gertie pecked at a few buttons on her cellphone and frowned in concentration.

         "Hold your horses, I'm looking. Oh, it's from Emily my great-granddaughter. Ah shoot, I've lost it."

         "Would you like some help, hon? Here, hand it over."

         With a brisk shake of her head and a tightening of her jaw muscles the great-grandmother stabbed at a few more icons on the brightly-lit screen. At one point she shook the device.

         Myrtle sat and watched, biting her tongue. She knew stubbornness when she saw it. Her oldest friend on this green earth could sure dig her heels in.

         "I know what you're thinking Myrtle and it's not the same at all. I can't help it if I was born with short fingers. That typing class was brutal. You only helped with a few of the assignments."

         "Mmm hmmm. Having any luck?"

         "I'll get it. Just give me a minute. Oh fudge, fine. You wrestle with this ornery thing."

         With a hint of a smile, Myrtle accepted the proffered phone. After a few pokes and swipes she found the misplaced message. She felt she'd earned the right to read it, so she leaned in close as she passed it back.

         Both women muttered, "What in the Sam hill?"

         Gertie scratched her new perm. "I don't get it. It's written in code."

OMG Gigi LOL BFF ROFL TTYL

         "Who's Rofl? "asked Myrtle.

         "Beat's me. I recognize my name and that's it. Maybe it's one of those gurgle things."

         " Google dear."

(290 words )