Editorials & Elegies

Chapter IV

Enid Sinclair sat on the couch in her apartment, her phone resting on the coffee table in front of her. The Saturday morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Yoko had already headed out to the gym, leaving Enid alone with her thoughts and a nervous flutter in her stomach. It was Saturday morning, and she was about to make her first phone call to Wednesday Addams.

She stared at her phone, building up the courage to make the call. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. This was it—the moment she had been both anticipating and dreading. She picked up the phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the number Wednesday had given her.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Enid bit her lip, her anxiety growing with each passing second. Just as she was about to lose her nerve, there was a click, and an unfamiliar, cool voice came through the line.

"Hello, Enid."

Enid's heart skipped a beat. "Hi, Wednesday. I hope I'm not calling at a bad time."

"Not at all," Wednesday replied, her tone calm and measured. "I've been expecting your call."

Enid smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Thank you for giving me your number. I wasn't sure if you preferred to keep our conversations to email."

Wednesday's voice softened slightly. "I got a phone just to talk to you, Enid. I think we're past the point of such formality, don't you?"

Enid felt a warm flush spread across her cheeks. "I suppose we are. Thank you, Wednesday. It means a lot."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Wednesday spoke again. "So, how do you want to proceed with this interview? I assume you have questions prepared."

"Yes, I do," Enid said, pulling out her notebook. "But first, I wanted to understand how you'd like this article to be structured. Do you have any particular requests or boundaries you'd like me to respect?"

Wednesday's voice remained steady, thoughtful. "I appreciate your consideration. I'd prefer the focus to be on my work, the inspiration behind my novel, and my creative process. My personal life, while it inevitably influences my writing, is something I'd like to keep mostly private."

"Of course," Enid said, jotting down notes. "I want to respect your privacy while still capturing the essence of who you are as an author. Your novel is the centerpiece of this article."

"Thank you, Enid," Wednesday said. "I trust your judgment. You've shown a sensitivity and understanding that I value."

Enid felt a rush of gratitude. "I'm really looking forward to diving deeper into your work. Your writing process is fascinating, and I think our readers will be captivated by it."

They spent the next hour discussing the logistics of the article. Wednesday detailed her inspirations, her late-night writing rituals, and the themes she explored in her novel. Enid listened intently, her pen flying across the pages of her notebook as she captured every detail.

As the conversation progressed, Enid found herself increasingly comfortable. She even laughed at one point when Wednesday dryly remarked on the irony of finding solitude in a house that was rumored to be haunted.

"You know, Wednesday," Enid said, "I've always admired authors who can channel their personal experiences into their work, especially when those experiences are as unique as yours."

Wednesday's voice softened. "Thank you, Enid. Writing has always been a way for me to process the world, to make sense of the darkness and the light. It's comforting to know that someone understands that."