Boing.
Boing.
Boing.
“What’s that sound?” Ernie bolted up in bed and fumbled for the alarm clock.
“What time is it?” I mumbled, trying to figure out where I was. I was pretty sure I wasn’t home. Maybe in a hotel room?
Oh no, could it be a tornado warning? Somewhere, against windows or maybe the roof, I could hear rain falling in torrents.
“The phone,” Ernie said, and then he was out of bed searching for his new iPhone that makes an ever-so-clever bouncing noise instead of ringing.
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