"What on earth are you holding to your ear?" Mark questioned in disbelief.

      "My cellphone, what else?" Jenni answered.       "Are you from the Stone Age? Who are you calling on that thing, Bach? I haven't seen a phone like that since 2005," Mark laughed away at the out-of-date piece of electricity. Flip-phones weren't exactly extinct, but it was something new to about.       "Bach and the Stone Age have really no correlation so your joke is invalid. Your opinion of my phone is invalid as well. If it isn't broken, why should I replace it?"   ***       Jenni turned up her nose in disgust. "How are you living like this?"       "Like what?" Mark defensively questioned.       She turned to the used ramen containers, to the open window, to the molding bread, to the piles of dirty clothes, to the mountain of dirty dishes, to the--no, she had to stop, for a mental breakdown was quickly approaching.       "Like what? I don't know where to begin!"   ***       Mark looked at the surroundings. Album, upon album, upon album, next to album. How could anyone own so many CD's?       "It's my music library, literally. My dad never trusted iTune's download's for a second; a belief that became sacred. Isn't it beautiful?"        He glanced at some of the titles. She had everything from the Bee Gee's to The Smiths (who even were these people?) to Girl's Generation. He recognized that Verbal Jint album, the one who held that magical song.       "Yeah, I guess it's beautiful." He decided to humor Jenni, this had to be something special to her.   ***       "Do you mean to tell me that the only reason you are calling me at two o'clock in the morning is merely because you want me to listen to some song from the '80s?" Mark inquired. He was part furious, part amused, but above all: tired.       "Yes."       "You're unexplainably crazy, but I guess that's already been established. I'll listen to it tomorrow; I'm too tired."       "It already is tomorrow, because tomorrow doesn't exist. There is only now and yesterday