I must call Mum, you think to yourself. A matter like this just can't wait.
You walk around the house, trying to remember where you last put that wireless phone when you remember that there is a phone-finder on the phone stand thingy. You slap your head in acknowledgement of your stupidity and run into the hall, where the phone usually rests peacefully on its stand on the plastic side table your grandpa always insists is wood.
Today it isn't there. You feel like weeping at the sadness of it all, but you have other business to attend to: calling your mum.
You press the phone-finder button and your phone rings somewhere deep inside the house. You follow the sound like a hound following its nose and discover it nestled under your mattress, next to your mobile.
Ah, so that's where it went, you think. That's the cost of your very little contact to the outside world: fifties of dollars worth of mobiles and phones being lost all the time.
You pick up the phone and ...