Being an Operator who has to answer phones all day long is no fun, not fun at all, or so my friend told me. The endless plethora of voices cease to be human, they fade into some kind of nagging grey mould inside your eardrums and the bitterness of having to deal with them all the livelong day must soon reach toxic levels. Incidentally, I had just -- but did not think of it right then -- drawn this fish for a book that I might complete someday. The fish is a Northern Pike, and they are Fine Fish, yesssir. And Fine Fish do not have to answer phones. Ever.
The cell phone is modelled on one that I once had -- just a few years ago really. Nothing wrong with it, but outdated. It's thus a little Retro already, and will be very much so when I'm done with the book, if ever. Then, If I'm still on the track, the Grey Mould might want me to buy yet another cell phone.