She cleared away dishes and glasses from the lounge, then stopped and felt in the pocket of her oversized sweatshirt for the Tamagotchi phone. She made sure no one saw it, but she carried it everywhere. Her monster was pixel-gliding across the screen – the black squares grouping and regrouping to make it bounce slightly and then fly. She used the arrow button to navigate through the food, lightbulb, game, medicine and duck icons to the chart. It wasn’t hungry but it wasn’t happy either. She’d have to play with it. The game was infuriating. A song would play, then the monster would turn from one side to the other. She had to guess which way it would stop by pressing either the left or right button. There was no skill involved, it was all luck. The monster would flick right, left, right, left, and she’d push a button and it would stop – not always where it had been heading. When she got it wrong the monster got angry. She had to get it right at least three times out of five to make it happy. She’d lost count of how many had died – sometimes it was carelessness, but sometimes she would swear off it, angry that none of the messages made sense, that her messages were never answered – but this monster was doing okay. It would go to sleep soon, and she would turn off its light and put the phone in the charger beside her bed. The phone needed charging twice a day now. She could never discipline any of the monsters. Ever. They just wouldn’t take it.

K, came a message.

Ash looks well, she replied to the number – the only number that ever sent messages.

Then she sent, Yeah. They’re a great kid. It was a new thing, a theory. She thought she could teach the number by sending both sides of the conversation.

Are you ever sad you didn’t have kids? she sent.

Then, straight away, No.

Then, again, No. Some people are just not the parenting type.

She laughed. Surrounded by the sound of being the only one laughing at a joke they’d made themselves. The replies she sent went nowhere. U collect it, the number sent. She looked back at the last few messages.

I am on d way.

K k thanx.

May b lol.

Then, I love u:-), which it would occasionally send over and over again.

She brushed her teeth and went to bed.