It rang but I couldn’t find it. I nearly upended my entire bedroom.
And to make it worse, it wasn’t my phone. It was a strange ring tune.
Musical. But with a hint of menace.
So why would I want to find the damn phone. Much less answer it.
It wasn’t the phone. It was who the phone belonged to. Because the news was not good. And I suspected it was about me.
Or worse: Not about me.