Call Log
Lydia (3 missed)
Voicemail
Lydia 11:20p.m.
Lydia 8:33p.m.
Voicemail One.
"I don't want to get ahead of myself,
but I would have thought
you'd answer by now.
Sorry if the background noise is loud;
I'm currently at a charity ball for my father.
Another reason I was calling;
I wanted you to come.
Guess what I'm doing?
Hiding away from the party
just to attempt to talk to you.
I'm looking into the mirror
and I know you'd love
this long, white mixed yellow gown.
You'd probably compare me
to some artwork
once again.
Please call me back,
I really need you here
to rescue me from these old people
who want to hear about college
and act like they are interested.
Missing you,
Lydia."
Voicemail Two.
"Again,
you decided to not pick up.
Why aren't you,
though?
Was it all bullshit
at the museum when
we saw each other again.
If I recall,
you hurt me.
So why are you
hurting me now?
Ah, shit.
Thanks to this stupid phone call,
I spilled wine on this expensive gown.
Who am I kidding?
Evan I over-reacted,
I cried almost every night
because I missed you.
It didn't help that Paloma
brought it up every damn time.
If you found someone else
just let me know.
If you want to still meet me,
then let's talk at Central Park
two days from now
at six in the afternoon.
This will either break me
or help me.
Goodnight Evan."
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetic
Historia CortaEvan is not sure if its the art or her that takes his breath away. Highest Rank: #135 in Poetry; #604 in Short Story
