It wasn’t slow motion like in a movie. No, in a movie, the phone would have tumbled slowly through the air, twisting and turning. There would have been a cut to a shot of her arm slowly stretching through the air after it, just missing as it hit the toilet seat and dropping into the bowl. In the movie, she would have already flushed, and the magic toilet fairies would have bleached the bowl to that ridiculous, unachievable pristine whiteness of the commercials.
It wasn’t like that. She’d been holding the phone in her mouth (because she was all class) when she’d sneezed. The nearest thing to a movie moment was when she flashed back to her in the phone shop saying. ‘Insurance? Nah, I’m pretty careful.’
Amazingly, the jar of rice had worked – she’d kept the phone in there for 2 days and it was kind of working, although she rarely knew who would receive her text messages or phone calls. It made life exciting, if very inconvenient.