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“Oskar? Over.”
“I’m OK. Over.”
“What’s wrong, darling? Over.”
“What do you mean what’s wrong? Over.”
“What’s wrong? Over.”
“I miss Dad. Over.”
“I miss him too. Over.”
“I miss him a lot. Over.”
“So do I. Over.”
“All the time. Over.”
“All the time. Over.”

I couldn’t explain to her that I missed him more, more than she or anyone else plain to her, because I couldn’t tell her what happened with the phone. That secret was a hole in the middle of me that every happy thing fell into.

...

I woke up once in the middle of the night, and Buckminster’s paws were on my eyelids. He must have been feeling my nightmares."

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© "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close", Jonathan Safran Foer