After a few weekends spent out of town I had been looking forward to a night in Berkeley. I met my old roommate Michael at a bar and we caught up there. He had departed for the frats so that was the next stop. By the time we made it to Nick’s a couple of hours later I was wide eyed and drunk. Michael and I were about to leave when another group of my friends showed up, so I ended up staying to catch up with them as well. Our phones, windows into other parties, were telling us we should leave and so we followed Brian to his old place.

When we got there I saw bubbly L across the room and it awakened the latent childlike excitement in me. In the ecstatic arm waving that functioned as our greeting I flung my phone across the room. Or at least that’s what people told me happened the next day. Regardless, the minor cracks on my screen had exploded into a mosaic from the screen's meeting with the floor.

The blur of the night faded by the early morning and I know I was sat, recently harmed phone in hand, when I saw Becca. I turned the phone to her with a comic frown, tapping the screen to demonstrate it’s loss of functionality. She came over, and with initiative and deftness at that point beyond me, restarted my phone. The screen did work, but even still the little shards meant there’d be at least one thing I wouldn’t be using it for anymore. <Thanks> I smiled, and went back to sitting next to Danielle.