Requiem for an iPhone

"I found your phone," said Beast.

And I was glad, for I had missed it this morning.

"In the toilet," he continued.

"Ah, right. I left it on the edge of the bidet again, did I?"

"No... in the toilet. In."

"Ah."

I bethought me that, before we went off to the gym, I had been to the loo and had heard a bit of a clunk, but thought it was that I'd caught the rim of the seat. Apparently not.

I considered what else had been in the toilet, and felt that the phone should, perhaps, be written off at this point.

"I will research it," Beast declared, and proceeded to investigate whether that particular generation of iPhone might survive prolonged immersion. He concluded that it might. I concluded that, since it had not been flushed away, it had - barring the initial murky dip - been sitting in clean water.

"But I peed on it," Beast admitted.

At this point I laughed until I cried.

*

The phone is currently sitting in a bag of rice, but I am not expecting much.