But the thing that really convinces me that the apocalypse is here is the crunching of smartphones under my feet.

I hand the package to the angel. He opens one up and stares at it like he's never seen one before.
He first looks at the skin colored side, which is a shade too light for him, then at the padded side, then back at the skin colored side again. He puts it up to his eye like a pirate's eye patch and makes a grimace.
My lips crack into a quarter smile even though it's hard for me to believe I can still smile. I grab it out of his hand. "Here, I'll show you how to use it. Let me see your foot."
"That's a pretty intimate demand in the angel world. It usually takes dinner, some wine, and sparkling conversation for me to give up my feet."
That calls for a witty comeback.
"Whatever."