She hated it. She sometimes envisioned herself hitting it with a hammer, again and again, watching it smash into a million pieces and feeling very, very satisfied.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a peaceful and uninterrupted sleep. It was constantly buzzing and she was constantly reaching over to try and wave it away. It didn’t work. It just kept on going.
She sighed and looked at it again. Would she ever feel differently about it? She didn’t think so. It was the bane of her existence and she could feel her anger increasing daily. It was just a matter of time before she lost her shit.
Yep, she hated that fucking cellphone equally as much as she hated the fact that her boyfriend read her messages but never replied. Both of them were as bad as one another, but the phone she could least turn off and throw away.
She wondered if it was possible to do the same with him.