It was eleven o'clock at night when my phone rang.
I stopped chopping my last cucumber and froze. Was I having hallucinations? But no. The phone rang again. My heart started bumping so fast and the knife I was holding slipped out of my hand cutting my leg on the way down.
Who could call my number? I was alone. The last person alive.
...Everyone else was dead.
I tried to pull out my phone while my hands were shaking badly. Unknown number on the screen.
It was real. Someone, somewhere was still there. Hope lights up in my heart. It felt like a dream. How was it even possible? I pressed the green button and desperately whispered
"Ha..lo?". On the other side robotic voice said "Hi have you been struggling with comfort sleeping? No worries! Our mattresses will provide you the best nights 100% of the time. Our new collect...".
I hung up. Seriously. Telemarketers will find you even after the apocalypse.
CZYTASZ
Myśli nieukończone
PoetryLuźne myśli, nieukończone wiersze. Bierz i inspirują się (oczywiście nie dosłownie) Pojawiają się nawiązania do depresji Bądź bezpieczny (Poważnie mówię. Jak coś to pisz)
