Having a usual conversation

Breeep. Breeep. Long ring announcing STD call. Voice on other end is already amplified having recognised the Breeep of an STD.
"Hallow...?" half-greeting, half-suspicion, the rest ready to slam the receiver.
"Hi Mamma."
"Oh, is that you....?" recognition, premonition, shock, all rolled into one.
"How many people call you Mamma?"
"So you are all right...?" Unsaid: ...because you are being cheeky.
"Just thought I'd call you."
"Everything all right? Where are you right now?" (It's 3pm on a Monday.) Unsaid: ...not at a police station, gynaecologist, bank or in love again?"
"At work, office. Cell phone is out." (Thought maybe you tried to reach me?)
"You have not paid your bills again..." Unsaid: ...if you party less, smoke less, drink less, spend on your boyfriend less and save some, you could have gone abroad and bought three phones.
(Oh, so she didn't try to reach me -- oh -- therefore? What therefore, make mental note to never give out more information than needed. Till she calls don't tell your phone ain't working!)
"Have you eaten yet...?" Unsaid: ... or are you skipping as usual?
"Yes I have eaten. But I...Mamma."
"Why is your voice sounding like THAT. "
"THAT, what? It is."
"You're smoking too much."
"No."
"You're drinking too much then."
"No."
"You're lying about the smoking..." Unsaid: ... and the drinking.
"If you think so -- why do you ask me each time?"
"Fine I won't ask again. (Pause) But that means you are lying about the drinking too."
(Hah, I knew she was thinking that)
"Mamma..."
"You need money?" Unsaid: if only you partied less, smoked less...
"No. I called to talk. Just like that."
"Don't hesitate if you don't have money, just ask. So you don't need money...?" (Worried now) Unsaid: ... not money, then what? What's the worst thing she could do now?
"Mamma, at times, I wonder why all is happening; and where do I go from here? I can't see the way ahead...or the reason."
"No point talking like that. Now what can one do if..." Unsaid: ... Oh no, not again, hope she doesn't quit her job.
"How're things at work? See if only you'd been happy being a house... But you..." Unsaid: poor thing if only she had been like other normal girls
"It's overwhelming to keep falling and rising and dusting yourself...and it's always you who is dusting yourself. Mamma..."
"Of course you should dust yourself," (alarmed) "that's why your clothes get dirty and then you spend on expensive detergent. Don't think like that. Your life is like this. It's Destiny. Live with it."
"Oh."

Post scrap: "Look at my magic trick," cried Little Dream and took a puff. POOF! It vanished in an aromatic haze of purple smoke. "Alas the dream is lost," cried Mother. Death laughed and threw the Rag Doll down the stairs. It was usual. Like usual conversations.

Post-post scrap: Midnight call from Soul Sister,. "Are you okay? You were upset today?"
"Oh..thanks for calling me. Am ok now...how did you know?"
"Well when you're not happy you should talk to people you can talk to. But your phone isn't working. So am calling you now, this late."
"But how did you know...?"
"Your mom called. Said she was worried."
"Oh."