[there's a sense of acknowledgment in the air, and your key is warm on your chest.

while you're contemplating the results of your actions, your reverie is interrupted - you hear a tinny sound, somehow cutting completely through the noise each time. it layers itself on top of all the other voices rather than removing them, so now it's really loud in your head.

it's coming, improbably, from the cord-cut hotel telephone in the pile of feathers.

the sound is impossible to ignore, hideously compelling - who's even calling? it would be very, very hard not to react to the ringing.]