A notification sound on Ben’s phone chimed, attracting Raquel’s attention. She watched him look down, then reel back in frustration.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“Humanity’s doomed,” he replied.
“You got that from a message on your phone?”
“Yes. It was a text from a professor friend of mine. He used emojis. Can you believe it?” he ranted, waving his arms in disgust.
Raquel frowned. “I musta missed something. How does that spell humanity’s demise?”
“Are you serious?” demanded Ben. “A smart guy. A doctor, even, has embraced the lowest form of communication.”
“I thought puns were,” said Raquel.
“That’s the lowest form of humour.”
“Oh,” said Raquel. “I wonder if you can use emojis to make puns.”
Ben’s jaw dropped in horror. “I can’t talk to you right now.”
“Wait a second. I once heard someone say that through all of history, everything that could be said has already been said.”
“What’s your point?” snapped Ben.
“Assuming that’s true, the only unique form of communication is through expression, not content.”
“Emojis are a new means of expression. A completely new language,” explained Raquel.
“That’s stupid,” grumbled Ben.
“It’s modern hieroglyphics. Who knows? One day entire novels might be written in emojis.”
Ben glared at Raquel. “Did you come up with that yourself?”
Raquel picked up her phone and sent off a text. Ben’s phone chimed. He looked down and read the message from Raquel. It was an emoji.