“Not to worry, Phillip,” Father O’Toole said. “I was just inquiring as to what authority they—” He stopped abruptly, jumping forward as the wall phone came unhinged behind him, dangling by a corner screw.“Huh,” Gil pondered. “Look at that.”“What happened?” Father O’Toole asked.“The phone fell,” Gil answered.“Well, naturally! I’m not blind, young man. I’m asking how the phone fell!”“I blame gravity,” Gil offered. (Excerpt from Whisper of Light)”

“Ask me again, Tristan read on his cell phone. Ask what? he sent back. Why I call you Sparky. Michael fumbled with the keys, not looking up. Well, sure, why? Tristan sent back. You light me up, came the answer, and Tristan's nimble fingers stopped on the keys. He stared hard at the small screen on his phone, the text message right there, waiting to see if he would send a reply. He just sat and stared till his phone turned off, unable to look up into the oh-so-blue eyes of the man who had sent it.”

“Gil thought for a few seconds and replied, “Yes, love is the answer.”

“He looked from the phone to the unconscious figure of the Salesman. "What did you do to him?" he asked."He got the wrong number," Alex said.”

“Arcadia,” Lon’s voice said from my phone. “Who is this?” I teased. “You can’t take my son on a date.” “I didn’t ask him. He asked me.” “He stole my cell and called without permission.” “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” A low growling noise came out of the phone.”

“Interesting how fashion is cyclical,” Jaccob said when she came out of the store with two black plastic bags. “Goth was the look when I was young, too.” “It’s not a look,” Chuck said. “I’m just wearing my feelings on the outside.” “Uh huh.” His phone buzzed. “Hang on a second." He rolled up his sleeve to check his HUD, but the call hadn’t come through there. Huh. He had to pick up his phone and check the read-out, which listed a phone number: an old school page. “That’s funny…” “Dad, you’re doing that thing again,” Chuck said. “What thing?” Jaccob asked. “That thing where you have to check every single doohickey you carry around.” “I am not.” Jaccob took his hand out of his coat pocket, where he’d been reaching to check his police scanner or music player (he hadn’t decided which to use first).”