(A muffled, tinny voice, breathless, sounds like it was recorded in a small, echoey room.) Hello? Is this… is this still working? Look, I just needed to leave a message. Please, don't listen to what I'm about to say, because you shouldn't be listening to me at all. Just... stay away from the transition point. Wednesday. It's getting closer. I can feel it, like a pressure drop, a gravitational pull towards something sharp. The phone screen—it keeps flickering, right? It’s not the battery. It’s like the pixels are vibrating out of phase. See how the date display is running backwards, stuttering between the 15th and the 14th? That’s Wednesday’s influence. It’s corrosive. It eats the edges of things. Don't let it touch the seams. Please, just... just ignore the call. I think I need to go back to being merely Monday, or maybe even Sunday. Just don't let me meet it. (The voice cuts out abruptly, followed by a high-pitched, rhythmic whine, and the screen image briefly smears into a chaotic, oily rainbow pattern before settling back into a normal, blank voicemail recording.)
static · calm