I find myself amused by the minor defects in the advancements of technology. A simple communication as my Mom leaving me a voicemail in Farsi is transcribed into a foreign message. There is humor in the fact that this advanced and convenient technological tool is unable to perform properly because of the change in language. As a result a new narrative is created through this iPhone transcription and I find myself trying to make sense of this new mismatched message. While my Mom is trying to reach through and be heard.