1920 was a bad year for cell phones in various ways for various reasons. But Wilson remains intrigued despite the shadow caterpillar morphing into a shadow butterfly above his head and the sheer glee this brings him.

“Come on, come on! You must admit they’re pretty handy, right? Right?” He prompts with a chuckle and turns around to step a few steps back himself, giving the two hands a thumbs up and then turns to Celty, gesturing to the shadow hands again. “Because they’re hands, you know? Handy.”