A barrage of all the text and voicemail messages I had not been receiving for the last week suddenly descended upon my phone this morning. The thing buzzed in violent paroxysm for a two or three minutes, quelled for long enough that I could batter out one apology, and then was swamped by another deluge.
Most of the message sequences describe a perfect arc from hi-how-ya-doin to hey-what-the-fuck; eerily the messages from Kelly — long adjusted to my ordinary reticence in communicado, perhaps — have a constant beatific calm.
My deepest apologies to everyone who tried to get hold of me; here is a token you can redeem for a pint next time I see ya:

Copyright © 2006 Joseph Pearson, some rights reserved.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
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