Broken Signals Light Up the Sky by Darryl Price

Well it was really only a toy I
got for one Christmas when I was little.
But what does that mean when it worked
perfectly well for its size?For the size

of my hands? I remember how it came
in a cool looking tan leather case inside
a neat little red cardboard box. I loved
the whole package.The white molded plastic piece

it sat locked in like an unbelievable secret
discovery waiting to show you its powerful use,
never before seen by man nor beast. The
box it came in to me was as

perfectly wonderful to behold as the thing itself
with all of its shiny chrome moldings fitted

snuggly around the tiny machine it actually was
like racing stripes on what looked like some

kind of really well-made wallet.I have no
idea what the other material was–paper,leather,
cloth? I couldn’t tell but it kind of
felt bumpy like I imagined alligator skin might

and it made a little sticking sound that
reminded me of paper being torn, not in
half, just torn for a second, when you
took a picture.All pictures were only in

black and white of course. You had to
send away to have them developed, and to
buy new film. And that’s what happened. All
of a sudden they stopped making that film.