[52] – Voicemail
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The boy took the girl’s phone
From her hands,
Trying his best not to wake her.
‘New Voicemail’.
He clicked several buttons
And a voice began to play.
“Hey, I know and understand
You no longer want to be troubled,
And you want to be alone
And stay alone.
But I miss you, and I want
To see how you’ve been.
I know where you are now;
I’ve finally found you after so long.
I’m sorry I won’t be able to give you much
Of a choice,
But I’ll be coming to get you tomorrow.
See you then.”
The boy stared at the small phone
On his palm.
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YOU ARE READING
Pluviophile
PoetryIt was a rainy day, in New York no less. One held a cup of coffee, wishing for the rain to stop. One held a hand full of old books, savouring the moment. short story #98 poetry #51
