“Sid must have hit a dead zone,” I thought after the dropped call. Waiting a minute, I punched in “7” when a string of “z’s” suddenly zoomed across the screen. I pushed the “home” icon, but the z’s changed to “y’s” until a sentence stuttered its message.
Nothing could hide it. Not her perfect page-boy or her expensive dresses. My friend said the roof of her mouth was missing. That’s why she drooled all over herself. That’s why we couldn’t understand anything she said.