I pull out the phone, its screen blinking and body shaking in my hand. A finger flies out reflexively, tapping a green button above all the numbers, so many numbers.
It stops crying, stops shaking, stops flashing. It's like the thing is asleep, or like I had killed it.
Thankfully that sentiment soon vanishes from my mind, as life re-enters it, a voice crying from inside.
I slowly raise the phone to my ear so that I can hear it better, the muffled sound coming from it incomprehensible from the distance.
"...remember, Jacquie, your favourite colour is red."
I hear a faint click, and then the phone is buzzing in my ear, sounding like an insect of some sort. Again, almost reflexively, a finger lashes out to tap a key, this time red.
"Red?" I mutter, looking up across the street. My eyes finally fall upon a canvas sign, hung above a twin set of street-side tables and chairs.