When I crashed on the cement I thought I would instantly die. I heard a crack. I bounce. If the otterbox saves my life I’ll be sore. I might have a concussion. He scoops me up. I hear him praying
“Please God don’t let it be broken.” So now he’s getting religious.
He needs to be more careful when he’s walking. The sidewalk is uneven. The roots of that large elm tree are bulging. I am going to sleep.
“Damn. Wake up.” He screams. I yawn and stretch. He starts checking me out.
“Thank goodness. Screen looks fine.”
I feel a stabbing ache in the corner. Uh oh—some of the protection has chipped off. Gordon is slow to figure this out. He keeps feeling the parameter. Oh it’s ticklish when he sticks his finger in my missing border.
“Why isn’t my mail showing up?” he cries.
He doesn’t need to shout. I don’t have a hearing problem. He is such a drama queen. Give me a chance to get back to working order. Oh no. I feel a chill. Am I getting frozen? I hate that. He needs to remain calm.
Oh, now he’s calling Verizon. I don’t trust them. They are useless. Apple is much better for help. What is that accent? What are they are telling him?
Ouch. That hurts. He keeps pushing the power button. Hey, give me a break. He must be blind. Doesn’t he see the half-eaten apple core?
OK now I’m defrosting. Circuits are popping. Yay! I am ready for action. Disaster averted. I can beep that his mail has arrived. Oh my god I am wearing down. Damn I only have 5% battery left. Hurry get me to a charger before I conk out. I heard there is a conspiracy that Apple purposely makes me obsolete. After a few years the battery dissolves. I thought I was safe being a seven. Well I just need to be in the here and now. If an eight is going to replace me so be it.