Two weeks have passed since I started talking.
I don't talk often.
But I talk.
That's a start.
I was about to go downstairs to get a snack when my phone started to ring.
The one I got 49 days after it happened.
I finally started to use the phone again.
I checked the caller ID before answering.
"Hello" I say after answering the phone.
"Hey." The person on the other line says.
"What's up Asher?" I say, plopping down in my bean bag chair.
"Are you busy today?" He asks.
"No why?" I ask after hesitating a little.
I'm still getting used to talking to people.
"I was wondering if you wanted to meet me at the mall at 2:00" he says.
I check the clock.
12:30.
"Sure see you then" I say happily.
I hang up the phone and make my way downstairs to get my snack, which will probably be unhealthy.
YOU ARE READING
49
Short Story"The number 49 never used to have any significance in my life. It was always just the number after 48 and before 50. But that was before it happened."
