I was living in a tiny apartment in one of those glass clad buildings in NY city. I was a bit overwhelmed.
Just a bit.
And I lost my phone, someplace between the lobby, the elevator, and the sidewalk.
There at least was a lost and found, with a high counter behind which sat some helpful people. I ranted and raved at them, showing them I had a pink iPhone just like this.
They pointed at my hand which had the phone in it, and said, "just like that?"
Just like that.
But the feelings and the sights had been so real. Ah, losing my identity, living in a huge confusing environment, losing even my connection to all whom I know. Such are the dreams of my life.
And waking up to see that it was still sitting on my bedside table. With a funny app called "find my phone." Which if it were really lost, a lot of damn good that would do!
