Suddenly, Joey's sniffles came to an end. "Alright. I should probably go. I have to get up for church in a few hours." I smiled. It was past midnight. Poor Joey.
"Okay."
"I'll talk to you later," he said.
I paused slightly, my head against my hands as they propped me up on the floor where I laid, listening to Joey attempting to compose himself. "Promise?"
He exhaled deeply, "Promise."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
And we hung up our phones.
YOU ARE READING
Speechless
Short StoryI'm unwanted, unloved, ugly and a lot of other things that begin with the letter "U." So read the horrible truth of my unfolding and inevitable insanity. Because I don't give a fuck anymore. No one does. So what's the point? Non-Fiction #21 [24. May...
