The phone ringsin the young woman's roomthe screen lights with a namea name grown oldshe does not pick up lets the ringing end
She sits down on the bedstill holding the phonethe unsent messagestill in the boxshe deletes it then powers off
Outside, the alley is darkthe streetlights are outa xe ômpasses with no passengershe pulls the blanket up falls asleep
The next morningshe does not turn the phone onthat messageis gonethe chair before the porch still empty