Initially the ringing was part of his dream, like an unconscious trigger to some repressed memory.
Bonnie’s sharp elbow, however, was real enough. “Your phone’s ringing. Babe, your phone’s ringing.”
Glen rolled over and swiped at his bedside table. The light from his cell phone hurt his eyes.
“Hello?” Glen was answered by a series of beeps and scratches. He hung up and slammed it back on the table.
“Who was it?”
“It was a fax machine.”
“Huh. I didn’t know people still used those.”
“Only to torture sleeping people. That just proves my theory that most of the world is doomed,” growled Glen.
“Why is that?”
“Because stupid’s not allowed in heaven.”
Bonnie caressed Glen’s shoulder. “What time is it?”
“Try and get some sleep. Maybe you should turn your phone off just in case the fax automatically redials,” said Bonnie.
Glen rolled over defiantly. “No, it’ll be okay.” He nestled back into his comforter.
Fifteen minutes later Glen’s cell phone rang.