Waiting For A Call Back

Message Nine

Derrick is a writer.

And my gosh doesn't he write beautifully.

Me? I can't write for the life of me.

But I tried with everything I had in me, and wrote something that actually wasn't half bad.

"Hey Derrick, So you know how I can't write?"

I force out a chuckle.

"Well I wrote something for you, I left it on your front porch.

I'm sorry..."

I drop the blue notebook on his front porch and wait quietly.

I swear I saw a curtain move, but not enough to show the person behind it.

I reluctantly head back to the car.

He'll read it.

I know he will.