Posted by Kyle Jacobson , Monday, November 1, 2010 8:12 PM

The little phone sat inside the black container feeling hopeless. He was fatigued, a small blinking bar reminded Samsung that he didn't have much time left in consciousness. No way to call out. No service. This was it? He was going to power down alone? There had to be more that he was intended to 

accomplish. At least his family would be protected, his warranty was good for another eighteen months. He tried to focus on those eighteen months to hold on to the mere hope that he would once again see the inside of a pocket, or sit on the desk with the warm charging sensation rushing through his hardware, or the joy of reuniting two friends from across the nation. Hope. Then he heard the light jingle begin to swell, the musical notes echoing through the box that would imminently become his coffin. The last thing he noticed was the missed messages and lost calls that would not be seen or heard. The phone powered down with all the luster and dignity of a $79.99 cellular phone. His sat there for six days, lifeless. No sign of an afterlife. No heaven. No hell. 

                ***Six Days Later***

"Hey, I found my phone!" I shouted.
"Awesome! Finally!" Said my brother.

Samsung was brought back to life with the insertion of a small chord attached to an outlet in the wall. He continues to live a great life, and is now in the process of writing a novel called, "Coming back to life: A personal account of the afterlife."

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