I heard the voice of my mother, calling to me as if from a long way off.
Last night, as I was dropping off to sleep, I heard her call.
That was it.
The screen of my telephone was lit up on my bedside table and then nothing. The phone went dark again.
I lay in the darkness listening to the Belieber in the apartment above me move things around, boxes containing the weight of her world.
This is the first time I have been able to understand the voices from my phone.
I dropped my cellular telephone in the lavatory a few nights ago.
After fishing it out (wearing rubber gloves, naturally, as I was not about to flush) I dried it in the sun for a couple of days.
I was told it would never work again, but it does.
To a point.
Odd thing is though, when I switch it on, the screen goes grey and the telephone emits a sound much like voices carried on the wind. I am unable to make out what is being said and it is as if the voices have travelled down the ages, through time itself, perhaps. Like the speakers have long since gone, but their words remain, out in the ether.
I place the phone next to my bed at night and listen to the voices in the dark.
It helps me sleep.
I am not sure why.
I have an abiding fear:
What if I was lost and no one noticed?