Late that night I listened to the ring at the other end of the line. It had been months since I had heard her much longed voice. I could feel the restlessness and a certain hesitation at the other end of the line. And then I poured. It was like the soothing rain in early spring when nascent green shoots bathed, drank and grew after those gentle showers. Then I heard her weep at the other end. Her voice trembled. She choked, coughed and then wept again - profusely and unstoppable. I let her be that way.All Rights Reserved