The Irony is That This Cell Phone Has Gone Through Dante's Inferno and Back and Still Looks Better Than You

By the time Snow White was a year old (as it turns out, Snow White was a boy. Natalia refused to change the name.), he was quite possible the most well-trained dog in the history of dogs.

They were inseparable. Natalia loved few things more than she loved Snow White. James and Will had to spend an hour convincing her that Snow White couldn’t come to school even if he “might only bite the kid who sits behind me and pulls my hair if I ask him nicely”.

So naturally, on a Saturday in July with bright white puffy clouds and a sky that looked it could have only been painted that shade of blue, she was playing with Snow White in her front yard. Sonnie and Carly were taking turns tossing a tennis ball to Snow.

It was a very momentous occasion when her parents trusted her enough to make sure Snow White didn’t bolt.

James was playing football and had finally deemed Will worthy enough to bring him along.

Sonnie tossed the ball to Snow but overshot it, a blur of green arcing high over their heads. It landed in the street with two bounces, rolling to rest against the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

“Sorry, Talia!” Sonnie called out apologetically.

“No problem! I’ll get it.”

Natalia ran across the street to get it.

She didn’t look both ways. She didn’t see the car.

The car didn’t see her.