Candy Crushed

Dear Diary:

I used to read during my free time, but it’s been all Candy Crush for the past year.

On a recent ride home on the No. 2, I put my tote bag with notes for an important report in it down at my feet so I could concentrate more intensely on clearing level 2315.

When I got to 72nd Street, I hurried off the express to catch a No. 1 that was coming into the station.

It wasn’t until I changed trains that I noticed my bag felt a little light: My notes weren’t in it. The doors on the local I was on had already closed, as had the doors on the express across the platform.

I was getting a sick feeling in my stomach when I noticed a woman on the No. 2 holding up some papers and pointing in the direction of uptown.