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.