I spoke to my parents over the phone, and made sure everything was all right.

My father was talking to me again, speaking over the phone.

She made to answer him, but he spoke over her.

So you spoke over the phone instead of on paper.

He turned his head to speak over the back of the seat.

His books and ideas still speak to us over the years.

He was speaking over a sound system, that much I could tell.

She spoke the last over his shoulder as if more to herself than to him.

He started to say something, tried to cut her off, but she forced herself to continue, speaking over him.

I turned away from him and spoke over my shoulder.