The tone is a guillotine.It drops,severing the cord betweenmy breath and your ear.
How would you like to of this piece—should it feel more melancholic , suspenseful , or perhaps abstract ? The tone is a guillotine
I have a message for the silence:I am still holding the plastic,warm from my palm,waiting for the version of youthat isn't made of echoes. The tone is a guillotine.It drops
I hang up.The dial tone is the only thingthat knows how to stay. warm from my palm
"Hello," you said—or rather, the ghost of you,trapped in a copper wire,looping in a clean, plastic roomwhere no one ever sits.
is the title of this piece, exploring the transition from a digital directive to the silence that follows.