the phone goes dead
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2011.08.28
Curiously, the day we had two three year olds in the apartment was the day our home phone died. Turns out the ringer had been turned off.
Not sure how that could have happened. Just one of life's mysteries.
The phone's now hung on the wall out of the reach of small hands. Well, not Mari's dainty little hands, but smaller hands.