It worked. Niiiiiiiiiiiice.
"Now for some uploaded pictures," he narrated, secure in the knowledge that no one was paying attention, and if you're really talking to yourself, you're not crazy. It's only when someone overhears you that true madness envelopes you and takes over your life, like an inlaw.
"What should I upload," he asks the empty air.
A voice answers, as heavy as the pause between two gusts of wind. "That baby orangutan you visited at the zoo," it supplies. "You idiot," it adds, smugly.
"Your right, Voice," he answers, accidentally saying it out loud in the coffee shop, because he's sort of getting into this narrative that began as a joke. Everyone has their headphones in, busy wrapping themselves in little bubbles of privacy in this public place they've chosen, and paid, to work in.
"That way," he says, in print only, once more, "people will think I do interesting things when they visit my site!"
He tests out ctrl+enter to post.