Days of silence stretched between us. I told myself I was holding up, but I was unshaven and ignoring voicemail from work. And she was happy somewhere else.
My stupor ruptured open, spraying a mist of anxiety into the air. I darted from the couch to the bedroom, knocking empty bottles off the coffee table. A blinking light, her light, beckoned from the nightstand. One new message. I tapped the screen.
The ceiling crashed down. The walls kissed in the center of the room.
“Free Wireless Carrier MSG: You’re approaching your data limit.”