Brave Little Toasters- Andrew Collins

I am a cell phone. I've never been able to sort out my emotions; I am always confused. I spend the majority of my life crammed into a small, dark place that I sometimes hear referred to as a pocket. Every few minutes the darkness leaves me and I feel the warmth of a hand, but it usually only lasts for a moment before I am jammed back into the pocket. It isn't all bad in there. Its normally much warmer in the pocket than it is outside, and it gives me a sense of security sometimes. At the beginning of each day, I wake up feeling full of energy, ready to attack the day. But as the day wears on, I find myself feeling less and less energetic, until I hesitate to perform the tasks of the day, in favor of saving my suddenly scarce supply of energy. When I get home and night falls, I'm usually connected to my charger, and it makes the trials of the day all worth it. A warmth fills my circuits as I begin to reach a state of charged. It has its drawbacks, but all in all being a phone isn't a terrible experience.