Everything’s getting out of order

Julian put the phone to his ear and listened to the ringer warbling down the line at him. His subconscious counted the rings and he felt the answerphone nearing. They were cut short suddenly.

“Hello?”

“Um, hello…” Julian replied, nervously.

“Who is this?”

“It’s… um, it’s…” He gathered his composure and started again. “It’s Julian. We met the other day? You gave me your number?”

“I don’t remember meeting a Julian…” The voice at the ended trailed off. “Were you wearing a hat of any kind?”

“I don’t think so.”

“A pity. I tend to remember hats more than faces. I met a lovely Trilby the other day. Rather interesting, despite his rather cliché choice of hat. Or was it a her?”

“Um, right. We met outside WH Smiths. You were doing a charity thing but I had no money.”

“Ah, I see. Well at least you talked to me. I can’t count the number of people who simply breeze past, attempting to ignore me. Well, I probably could, but I suspect the numbers would simply depress me.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet up some time? Go for a coffee or something?”

“Well, I’m not really a fan of coffee. But I’m always up for social situations. Maybe you should wear a hat this time though.”

“Anything in particular you’d like me to wear?”

“Surprise me.” Julian could hear her flirty little smile down the phone. It messed with his vocal control.

A set of stars still incomplete

She called again last night. She told me it was over. She told me she just couldn’t go on like this. Or at least, that’s what I assume she said. I don’t really listen any more. It’s been almost a year now since it ended. And every month, regular as clockwork, she calls me up and ends it all over again. I don’t know why. I don’t know if it’s a compulsion or some sick obsession she has with twisting the knife. She always says the same words. I always say so little it doesn’t matter. I often let my mind wander while she speaks. I wonder exactly what she’s doing as she speaks. I wonder how she prepares. Does she make a cup of tea and then sits comfortably and breaks my heart while it cools? I wonder if she’s ever called while I’ve been out and been disappointed. I still answer the phone every time. It’s always the same day so I always know it’s her. I just can’t bring myself to not answer. Maybe I’m punishing myself. Or maybe I can’t let go of this one last connection we have. Maybe it makes the break-up somehow less painful. I dread the day she stops calling.

-Alice

The sound of what you gave me

My watch has stopped. The hands aren’t moving. But then, it’s hard to tell. The second hand fell off the mechanism a while ago, so any movement would be pretty imperceptible. But even so, the sound would still be there. I hold it up to my ear and listen for the soft tick as the mechanism keeps moving the missing second hand. It’s not there. My watch has stopped. It’s an old watch, but unfortunately not old enough to require winding. Instead it runs on one of those little batteries that are impossible to find and obscenely expensive. I don’t have that kind of money to spare right now. It’s not much compared to other expenses, but it’s still a couple of meals (though not exactly exciting ones). And a watch, though seemingly ubiquitous, is somewhat of a luxury when I have other things that will happily tell me the time. I won’t have it conveniently on my wrist, but it will still be on my phone, sat in my pocket, or in the corner of my computer screen. Hell, it’s even available from my cooker (though that would require me to set the clock on the cooker). But a watch, for some reason, seems so important.

-Alice

This is the capital city of nowhere

It was broken. I held the receiver and heard nothing. The line was dead. I did everything you always do when this happens. I hit the little button that hangs up the phone multiple times. Nothing happened. I checked all the connections a couple of times. Nothing happened. I put the receiver down. Nestling in the little cradle that it calls home. I stared at the phone. Willing it to come back to life and ring just once. Nothing happened. I watched it for a while. I don’t know how much time I spent just staring at this shiny black phone. It didn’t ring. Eventually I just grabbed the receiver and pulled. The wire came away with little effort. I hurled the receiver at the glass beside me. It bounced off and hit me in the face. I felt the bruise forming below my eye as I stared at the receiver laying on the floor. That’s when it began to ring. That little disembodied black lump on the floor began to ring.

Nah, I’m just kidding. Who calls some random phone box at the end of some nowhere street?

-Alice