I berated him all the way back from the park. I pull over a third of the way from home, like the world's number one dad, to make sure he's really listening. I will turn this car right around.
"...too important to jump into without thinking things through like that. I mean, pull your head out of your ass! She was my bot."
He's starting to look properly chastised, but my heart just isn't in it tonight. My mind is totally, dangerously elsewhere.
"I gotta make a phone call."
I slip past him and shrug my way through the beaded curtain that divides the van and throw myself into a beanbag chair. I can imagine equipment lining the walls back here; computer screens, and cameras and things that go beep in the night. Soon. Most of it's here already; just needs a few more components and to be plugged in.
For now I pull out my cell phone and hit re-dial.
Because she's blocked me.
I throw the phone against the wall of the van. Either it's good workmanship, or I throw like a girl, because it doesn't break.
((Open to: Andrew))