Following nearly a decade of reliance on global-positioning-satellite-enhanced navigation via his handheld mobile communications device, local bachelor Gregor Harold Bantanigian ran into trouble when his phone suffered a total systems-crash three miles from his house. Having no coins on him and knowing none of his contacts’ phone numbers by heart, for the first fifteen minutes of his ordeal Mr Bantanigian sat in his car staring out of the windshield, unmoving. Glancing upward at the stars in a vain attempt to find North, he realized he had forgotten which constellations stood where in the Fall sky, preferring instead recently to scan the heavens using an application on his phone.
Pulling the device back out of his pants pocket, Gregor banged it against his left palm a few times, then mashed clumsily at the power button until his thumb started to cramp. As this article was going to press, Mr Bantanigian was seen waiting around in front of a nearby grocery store trying to ask strangers for directions back to his home. Upon seeing his fashionably ripped t-shirt and loose fitting cotton sweatpants as well as the desperate look in his eye, however, they assumed he was a drug-crazed street person and kept their distance.
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
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