Night

It's Been 500 Years

"What are you going to do now?"

I look at my manuscript. It's in chronological order, plenty of pauses and the silence in between. 

It stares back at me. No one's looked at me quite the same, unless you include the gaze of Puck's creepy, round, smooth teddy-bear eyes. 

I turn my head, shivering, in the only room in a one-bedroom apartment. You could walk twenty steps from one end to the other. For an unapologetic slob, it suits me fine. It makes finding room mates an undesirable possibility, rather than a priority.

I like to think I'll make it big in my life. As if reading the same sentence multiple times, constantly revising that damn plot or researching 'Russian monarchy timeline' at 5 in the morning was my definition of success in life...Then yes, I'd do it.

 If I could first begin.

I don't know what I'm doing. My mind wanders back to bleak reality of my unemployed, friendless life. I should seriously consider do meditation. Maybe God will take pity on this poor, tortured artist and send some cha-ching onto my lap. Oh, story idea: 

A young, diligent entrepreneur hits jackpot in her newest business endeavour, only to have her success come crashing down when....

Pause. When the market fails? The tyrant ex returns! (Scratch that, it's far too sexist). Her bloody  dog dies or something, I don't know. See what I mean?

I have potential! I truly do, now only if... 

My phone rings. Holy balls, could that be a friend? Janice, the random cousin I met on Facebook last week? My mum? Where's Wally? I half leap to my charger and check the screen. 

Private Number. 

Huh? I pick up. "You have reached the voicemail of-"

"Cut the crap, Raymond." The phone slips from my fingers and tumbles to the carpet. I snatch it back up, my heart drumming, echoing in my chest. I can't be lucid dreaming.  

"Carmin?" 

"Yeah, hi." There is a weighty pause. "I can hear the disbelief in your voice. You didn't think I'd come back, did you?" 

"It's been 3 years. We haven't seen or talked to each other since high school."  The moment I say this, I'm well aware of how stupid I sound. 

"I would-" 

"Never break a promise," I finish. "Yeah, I know. I spent the better half of my university life doubting myself on whether it was wishful thinking or the real deal." 

There was rustling in the background. "Sorry, reception's bad." She sighed, as if she was running out time. "I'll be quick to save you the pain."

My heart stopped.

"I'm over you. Nothing about you interests me anymore, not even vaguely." 

I thought I would die at this moment.

She continued. "I'm content with what I have now. If it helps, I do think of you from time to time. But... You are part of my past. The girl I was then, she still loves you." 

And I hung up. I didn't want to hear anymore. 

She's gone.