When phones become phoney
I still remember getting my first cellphone like it was yesterday. I was 16 years old and in grade 8. It was a magical time. I don’t even mean magical-as-in-I-was-so-happy-to-have-a-phone. I mean magical-as-in-imagine-being-able-to-receive-calls-wherever-you-go-surely-that-is-not-possible. Up until that point I had to stand in line at the boarding school phone-booth to receive one call per week from my almost-boyfriend and two calls per week from my mom. You had to plan your day perfectly so you would reach the front of the queue in time for your call but not too soon, otherwise the other girls get irritated and you lose your spot. It took real dedication…
This article was first published on Master of Quills
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