I hold the power button until the screen goes black. Then I bend the phone in half. The screen yields first, a spiderweb of fractures spreading across the glass. Then the backbone gives way with a snap that sounds too much like a bone breaking. I roll the window down. Cold air and snowflakes rush into the car. The driver glances in the rearview mirror and frowns, but he knows better than to ask questions.
I toss the ruined chunk of technology out of the window. It bounces once on the slick asphalt and then is chewed up by the wheels of a truck one lane over.
The window goes back up. The warmth returns.
We pass the sign for JFK. Terminal 1, International Departures. The driver signals right.
I press my forehead against the cold glass and watch the snow pile up on the airport roof, and I
