Short stories

His call

It was dark in the room, save for one lone lamp that lit the room, throwing shadows into the corners. The figure on the bed was still, except for the rhythmic movement of her chest as she slept deeply, yet restlessly. Slowly, her eyes opened, and she exhaled noisily as she raised her arms in a long stretch to ease her aching muscles. She turned over, sleep still invading her senses, yet she could not bring herself to return to her slumber. She reached for her phone, checking for any missed calls, or any missed messages.

Nothing.

Sighing, she placed her phone down and rose. She went outside, opened the fridge but nothing caught her interest so she closed the door. She went outside to escape the heat and sat on the cool cement floor as the wind cooled her heated cheeks. She wondered why he didn't call or even message her. She was tempted to grab her phone and text him but she didn't want to crowd him. So she opted to wait. But waiting was not one of her traits But wait she must, because he was worth it. Not wanting to stay outside anymore, she returned to her room and rechecked her phone.

Still nothing.

Thinking maybe he had fallen asleep, she resigned herself to knowing she wont hear from him that night. She laid on her stomach, getting comfortable in hopes that she will be able to go to sleep. Grabbing his jacket, she cuddled it close to her, hoping that it will be enough for her to sleep. She closed her eyes, in hope that she would be able to sleep in order for the night to pass. She was just on the verge of drifting off when...

Her phone rang.