“What are you kids doing here?” I asked, frowning.
“There are some party balloons left over, so we’re inhaling helium. You want some?”
“Alright, let’s see.” I picked up a balloon, brought it to my lips, and gulped a lungful of gas.
“Helium is less dense than air, the vocal folds vibrate faster in the gas,” said one of the kids, who looked like a smartass.
“You’re so skinny,” said another, d
One summer afternoon someone texted me from a strange number: “How are you doing?” Since I’d lost my previous phone and hadn’t restored all my contacts yet, I thought it was probably one of my friends. I responded that everything was fine, to which I received a few more polite messages. I had no idea whom I was texting, but I didn’t see anything inappropriate about this straightforward exchange of niceties.
A few days later, this someone texted me again. They asked if I’d read anything interesting recently. Of course, I answered straight away. They were intrigued, asked me a few extra questions and we had a nice chat. I still didn’t know who it was. I was curious, but the conversation had already gone too far, and by that point I could hardly ask whom I was actually talking with.
