The whisper comes from the corner of the room. Not from you. From the other you—the one who lives in the mold stain that looks like a map of Hokkaido.
And you press snooze .
In the last one, the one that loops, you press the play button on a cheap boombox. A lo-fi track crackles to life. A woman's voice, soft as a razor blade, sings: "Oyasumi..." -Oyasumi- NHK ni Youkoso - Welcome to the NHK -
"The call was from my mom. Or a satellite. Same thing." The whisper comes from the corner of the room
