I came home with something on my mind to ask Damjan. Picking up the phone, I dialled the familiar sequence of numbers and waited.
Beep beep… beep beep… beep beep…
‘I hope Damjan’s home,’ I thought. ‘He should be back by now.’
Suddenly, a girl picked up the phone.
‘Hello, this is Joan’s voicemail. If you leave a message…’
Oh… When I dialled the phone number I know best, I had called myself at work.