I'd just went through 7 hours of torture. My hands were sweaty, my fingers itching, my throat was dry, and I couldn't function properly.
I had left my mobile phone at home when I went out.
It's always been there in my right pocket. The textured feel of the keypads comfort me when my hand is tucked in. In it's absence, the fingers just dunno what to twiddle at in the pocket.
There I was in a mall full of people, yet feeling so disconnected from it all. I look on with envy at others fooling around with their little precious, and curse my own muddleheaded-ness.
In the madness of it all, I'd forgotten that there are other ways to stay in touch. The good 'ol coin phone. I almost (almost) yelped out in glee as the ten cent coin made it's way in and the familiar dial tones rang out as each digit on the payphone I pressed, with earnest.
So after rushing home from Yishun to Hougang, I immediately picked up my darling k800i and took a long, hard look at the screen...
Nabez...nobody messaged me!!!