Whatsappening? (IP)

Forty-five minutes in the shower. Crazy, but the warm lavender rain washed away the anger. Drying beneath a fluffy bathrobe, she grabs her phone.

It blurts his voice message, “I’m coming to apologise, see you in fifteen.” He sounds drunk.

“It’s OK ILU. Wait.” she thumbs.

Sorry, Whatsapp couldn’t connect. . . .