They say curiosity killed the cat, but in my case, it helped someone find hope—and unexpectedly gave me a life I never imagined.
It was a cool autumn morning when I stepped outside, the air crisp and clean. My mother, Helen, was already preparing breakfast. Like every morning, I walked to the nearby bakery to get fresh rolls. It was our little tradition, a small ritual that brought comfort to our quiet life.
You might wonder why a 30-year-old successful programmer still lives with his mother. The answer is simple: family. My mother raised me on her own, and over the years, we became each other’s biggest support.
That morning, as I walked, something metallic crunched under my sneaker. I looked down and spotted a broken cell phone on the curb, its screen shattered and casing dented. It wasn’t a modern smartphone—just an old keypad-style phone, the kind you rarely see anymore.
Something about it caught my attention. I picked it up, wondering if I could fix it. Tinkering with old tech was a hobby of mine, after all.
Back at home, I enjoyed breakfast with my mom before deciding to examine the phone. I removed its SIM card and inserted it into one of my backup phones, just to see if it still worked.
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