Confessions of a grown-up tech addict (opens in new tab)

A few years ago, I lost my smartphone. After hours of searching, I noticed the washing-up bowl in the kitchen, still ominously full of soapy water from an earlier task. With mounting dread, I put my hand in and pulled out a cold oblong body, dripping and now permanently lifeless. There were no other suspects, yet I could not remember doing the deed myself. I concluded that some better version of me must have taken control for a second and tried to set us both free.