Any Sufficiently Useless Tech
by Ping Yi Yee
River Acheron
The imported washing machine spins in the long stay, their clothes pristine, its door sealed with Herculean magic: We have no technician next two months. Weekly he taps “Wash” to reanimate the fabric trapped behind the round portal, delaying the rot in the whirlpool. On free wi-fi she updates software; it wipes her phone and she races to the telecom for resurrection. Skyping to work back home but their way is barred, data ferry unmoving in virtual tunnel – old woes in modern skin, indistinguishable from rubbish.
Retreating to the river bank, they picnic: honey cake and pomegranate salad, washed down with retsina, chocolates for dessert. Back at the cottage, the printer revives, spewing out sheet after sheet, racking up the toll.
Ping Yi writes poetry, short fiction and creative nonfiction. After a three-decade detour in public service, he resumed his lifelong interest in speculative, humour and travel writing. His work has appeared in Orbis (nominated for 2025 Forward Prize), Litro (Editor’s Pick), The Stony Thursday Book, London Grip, Meniscus, La Piccioletta Barca, Harbor Review, Vita Poetica and Eclectica, and is forthcoming in The High Window and The Bangalore Review. Ping Yi lives in Singapore with his spouse and their son.