My phone spazzes out from the shock of receiving over three hundred sum messages, some pages long. After a quick boot, I flip through them, thinking its a prank, or his number was stolen. But the words are definitely him. The last one dates just yesterday.
So I pull it up
And hit reply.
It's been two days since I sent the message. Thoughts begin to creep into the back of my mind, wondering if he's alive.
Whispers and memories of smiles and laughter lost.
Wondering if this hope is false, or if I've lost him all over again.
I lay on the grass beneath the stars and fiddle with my phone.
my finger brushes the call button and the phone begins to dial. I let it ring, and I listen to the sound of his voice message, telling me to call back.
Tears stream down my face as I hit redial.
again.
And again
And again.
Echoes of his voice rattle inside my skull, images of his smile, his eyes, his jokes, his laughter that I only ever pushed away, and now desperately cling and claw back into my mind like sand slipping through my fingers and vanishing into the cracks.
A click
And the voice message stops
So does my heat
Silence fills my ear.
YOU ARE READING
Flickers
RandomA bundle of blurbs. (from my pinterest comments) Vote for which to expand into full stories! Each of these bits and bobs, odds, and ends was inspired by a pin of a prompt, poem, or picture, so without the pin might make no sense 🥲 But I'm working...
