The last time I visited my family in Atlanta, I stumbled across an answering machine in the closet while hunting around for a beach towel. It took me a moment to place the clunky black object, but as soon as I pieced together what it was, I hurriedly plugged it in. The voice of my mother crackled through the air: “Hi, you’ve reached 237-9837. We can’t take your call right now, but please leave us a message, and we’ll call you back as soon as we can. Wait for the beep!”


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... is a writer, editor, and feminist activist based in New York City.