Photo Gallery

Finding the Phone

I was walking home from class when I saw it, a white iPhone 4s. I scooped the phone from the ground to get a better viewing of it.

The phone was in good condition for what I think fell out of a girls book bag with only a dingy purple glittery case.

Although the case was cheep and unable to provide any sorts of protection, the phone had no cracks, scratches or dents, nothing. Surprisingly.

Ignoring it, I took the phone inside my apartment.

As I walk through my apartment door I throw my bag onto the floor and pulling off my coat and shoes.

I flop onto the couch, inspecting the phone further.

Whomever this phone this belongs to must be going crazy trying to find it.

I swipe right to find the phone had no passcode.

"It's amazing how dumb teenage girls can be" I sighed, ignoring that I used to be a dumb teenage girl.

I searched the contacts and found one labeled "Mom" and press the call button.

Nothing.

It was like the screen didn't respond to my fingertips, confused I pressed call again, and once again nothing.

At that moment, I received a call on my own phone, a black iPhone 6. I swiped to answer and the voice of my bestfriend, Anna, reached my ears.

"Hey Amanda! How was your test today?"

Momentarily forgetting about the phone, I fell into a deep conversation with Anna about the absolute chaos that is my university life.

After 15 minutes of chatting about whatever 20 year olds usually talk about, she gets to the point.

"Are you busy tonight? There's a cool club that opened up downtown and a few of my friends want to go, you should come with us?!"

I glanced around at the comfort of my apartment. I was a quiet person who preferred to sit inside and read a good book, as compared to my outgoing bestfriend, Anna who was always getting into heaps of trouble.

Opposites attract I guess. As much as I wanted to stay in tonight, I smiled and agreed, much to Anna's squealing delight.

How can I deny a request from my best friend?

We set up plans and I hung up the phone. Then I remembered the other phone sitting on my couch. I picked it up and opened it to the owner's mother's contact information.

I punched the number into my own phone and hit "call." I could at least call this way.

The phone rang for a few moments. I was about to leave a message when an exhausted voice came over the speakers.

"Yeah?"

I tried not to be put off by a rude response.

"Hi, my name is Amanda and I found a phone outside of my apartment. I think it belongs to your daughter. Is there a way I could get to her?"

The line was quiet for a few moments, aside from breathing. Then "do you think this shit is funny? Quit with these stupid fucking pranks."

I remained speechless for a few moments after she'd hung up on me.

What the hell was her problem? Thoroughly confused, I rechecked the number.

No, I had dialed the right number... well, whatever, I shrugged. I couldn't make sense of it, but it wasn't really my problem, either.

Sooner or later someone was bound to call her and then I'd pick up and explain the situation to them. It would get resolved somehow.