The crunching sound reminded me of a child eating cereal without milk. That it emanated from my left kneecap in Morse code was rather disturbing.
Not that I understood Morse code. The Cub Scouts expelled me before that lesson. But I could hear short crunches and long crunches in a distinctive pattern, so I surmised it was Morse code.
I frantically copied the dashes and dots on the back of an envelope, then found an app on my phone to decipher them into words. I stared, stunned, at the result. Hello, we’ve been trying to reach you about your vehicle’s warranty.