I was sitting in the living room today with the front door open to let in the sun when I heard the sound from outside. Maybe because I'd just seen Luke Bryant fall flat when he tripped on a tossed cell phone, I instantly recognized the sound as a cell phone being run over by a speeding car. (All cars speed past our house.) I looked into the roadway and there it was, right in the center of the road, a black cell phone. I started to retrieve it, but another vehicle ran over it again, with the same distinctive noise.
I waited for the all clear, grabbed the phone, a brand unknown to me. Of course it was somewhat cracked and mutilated. I put it on the porch railing. About an hour or so later, while I was sitting in my sunroom (car) working on the Cryptoquip, a car stopped in front of Nellie's house and a man got out, looked in their driveway and then walked along the roadside toward my house. I got out of my car and asked if I could help. Looking for my phone, he said. I pointed to where it sat on the railing told him it had been run over twice, at least. He picked it up and it did turn on and he said he was glad to at least know where it was. He lives right up the road.
Life presents me with so many unanswered questions: How does a phone fly out of a car window? And how does the owner know almost exactly where? Maybe he could call it and trace its location? Ah, sweet mysteries of life...
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