Seance on a sunday afternoon

Howling at the moon, slitting a vein, cybersex. There are only so many ways to cope with private hells. In high rise solitude, modern man has begun to redefine his need for society. A hundred voices are trapped in his cell phone, but there's no head upon his pillow. Aching for love and teal Jimmy Choos, the spirit is calling out, no, not to the dead, but the living.