Zero Percent

A flicker, then nothing.

Just a cold, dark mirror

reflecting a wet streetlamp.

The weight of it, useless

in my palm.

Bus schedule: gone.

Map: gone.

Any whisper of direction:

gone. Just the hum of the city,

a thousand small lights

that aren't mine.

Felt the panic start to prickle,

a little electric buzz

where the connection should be.

Stuck.

A brick in my hand.

And the street,

so much wider

than it was a minute ago.