Hello.
I'd never known before that day how such a small word could contain so much.
Hello.
It was barely a word.
It was an utterance.
It was an infinitesimal greeting, a fleeting acknowledgement, two syllables so weak alone that they might be caught in a breeze and carried far away from the person who spoke them.
Hello.
It was nothing.
Hello.
It was everything.
Hello.
It was the first word he ever said to me.
Hello.
It was the last word he ever said to me.
Hello.
It was the word I'd searched for without knowing why.
Hello.
Hello.
YOU ARE READING
The Hour With You
Short StoryI stepped from the train with no journey in mind, only a desire to be far from what was behind me. There on that night he said to me a word with such promise, such hope, and such kindness that no two syllables ought to be able to contain it. 'Hello...
