i wait well, i think. give me a good book and a shady spot with a nice cuppa and i'm set till you are done. except when my wait for a cellphone battery transplant means an agonizing hour of purgatory.
because the book is in the 'phone. and the money is in the 'phone. as is the map of this strange neighborhood. even the time is by the 'phone.
i feel lost and wish to throw a tantrum. how unfair it is, i think to myself. to come to the end of a long day to be so hungry and so far from the day's rest. all because my 'phone is giving up its lithium ghost.
i surreptitiously glance at strangers' wrists to figure up when my hour is up. and what do you know? lots of folks have stopped wearing wristwatches! and of those who do, most are wearing smartwatches with anonymous faces. wear analog, people! perform a public service!
in any case my cellphone is rejuvenated with new energy and i am back to my streamlined efficiency.
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