Say perchance that:
The moon was in SAGITTARIUS; the water from the soaked towel squished between Michael's toes as he pressed down.
you feel uninhibited as you leave your fogged bathroom; wrap the towel around your waist and go into the other room. dripping wet, you see the blinking red light again. you don't want to know. sit on the edge of your couch and stare at it. blink………blink. you want to be entertained, you're scared, you love being entertained, you're petrified it's Sydney. you stare. press it.
you almost do, but instead you stand up and go into the bedroom. drop the towel, get dressed, go back in. blink………blink. you rub your fingers through your wet hair. press it. you don't. walk to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, take out the bottle of water, unscrew the cap, drink, recap, put it back, close the door. glimpse over. blink………blink. you walk back over, basking in your own absurdity. it doesn't matter who it is; no one should be this afraid of a message. press it. decide to close the blinds. blink………blink. the newly darkened room intensifies the flashes of red. press it.
the mechanical voice begins: MESSAGE SENT……FRIDAY……AT………ONE THIRTY…TWO……PM : Vaughn, hey it's Weiss. Look bro, sorry to do this to you, but we're going to have to have you back over here. Something's happened in Portugal, pretty big. Anyway, sorry again. See you soon………END OF MESSAGES……beep.
Dammit! you go back into the bedroom, sit at the end of the bed. look over at the flowers, notice the pink card on the ground. stand up, go over, reach down. open the flap, read the inscription. look back up at the two-inch stagnant yellow water they're sitting in. you feel relieved that it wasn't Sydney, disappointed really. back to being her handler. crumble the card in your hand, throw it down, grab your jacket from the bed post; leave.