Almost asleep, nearly out. Vaguely thought that I heard a cell phone cry that its battery was dying. Decided to ignore it. J asked me what that sound was. Groggy and one eye still shut, I went to find it. I thought it was in the dining room. No. It refused to make another noise so I decided call and see if it was more awake than I was.
There was a faint sound of music from behind me. The phone, safely in my handbag, and next to my side of the bed, mocked me by going silent. I had, however, echo-located it. By now, both eyes open, vertical and moving, I was extremely awake.
Next time, that little silver baby can just cry . . .
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4 comments:
I, too, feel the same way. Then my mind wonders if the call could be from my brother, children, relatives or parents. My mind wonders if I can fall back asleep as I stumble to find my flip flops.
One of my co-workers called our house a few weeks ago early, early, in the morning looking for keys. They were found in the exact spot they are placed every evening. Now, she looks for the keys with her eyes all the way open.
My phone dies in my purse, too. It must be an cellular thing.
Or a genetic thing.
That will teach me to leave it outside the bedroom from now on. How it crept in there, I could not fathom.
I always leave my cell in my room. I never hear it cry out when someone rings. I have to check it every now and then to see if someone rang. I refuse to be a ball and chain to my cell fun.
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