A Stolen Phone
Someone knocked on the door of my apartment.
“Almer?”
“Yes?”
The door opened with a shriek.
“Do you have classes?”, Sophie shouted.
“I don’t, what’s up?”
I walked down the stairwell to the landing so I could see her.
“Can you help me with something?”, she asked while looking up at me.
“A friend of mine got her phone stolen, and she traced it to some pawn shop,” she paused briefly, “so she asked me to go with her to pick it up.”
