"The Blank Tape"
Simón Martínez presses his nose against the TV’s monitor, his hot breath fogging the glass, as he tries to position his face as close to the television screen as humanly possible.
He remembers doing this during his bored moments as a child, thinking he may find something secret being broadcast that he’d miss if he was watching from the couch like a regular person.
The static fills the screen with its never-ending frenetic dance, never stopping to stay still even for a moment. Simón focuses on just one black or white dot, trying to track its trail as it hops wildly across the screen, but each time he loses the poor thing as the rest of the static overwhelms it.
Having found this blank VHS tape in an ancient box that he forgot he ever had, Simón hoped there was some sort of lost treasure from his childhood recorded on the cassette… but nope. Just static. He guesses he was saving it to record something special, something special that never came.
But still, for whatever reason, he actually likes it this way. The static is somehow soothing, filling his field of vision with the endless movement while the white noise quietly hisses on and on.
The magnetic tape inside the cassette *snaps*, and Simón hears the gears of the VCR grind to a halt as it struggles to eject the broken VHS. The picture goes black.
Simón unwinds the magnetic tape from around the VCR’s reels, the strip crinkling in his hands, and throws the useless blank tape away.
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