I think my reasoning behind this one will be obvious. Hope you enjoy it.
Ghost of the Mind
She tenderly puts the ancient flip-phone on its charging stand, careful not to bend the cord again. A warm shower always primes her for the work day. She pulls on her flats, and places her heels beside her purse. One poached egg later and she heads for the bus stop.
The neighborhood is much nicer than fifteen years ago. Small shops and bistros popped up along the street, and the community garden is in its second year. People are already there to pick up the branches that blew down overnight. She visits the coffee shop before the bus stop.
A fresh romance novel occupies her time for the next hour. People get on, and others get off. She gulps the last mouthful of her latte and throws the cup away as she exits the bus. People jostle by on the sidewalks to remind her why she stopped carrying coffee.
Skyscrapers cast shadows along the sidewalk for the next two blocks. It’s cold in the morning these days. She makes a mental note to get out her sweaters and scarves this weekend.
She takes a turn as receptionist at the law firm until noon. Her secretarial work is piled up waiting for her after she is free of the telephone. It will take the rest of the week to catch up, so she can take her turn at the phone again.
The girls all make plans to grab a glass of wine after work. They stopped asking her years ago. It’s nice to be asked, but she’s refused too many times.
The bus ride home is a repeat of the morning, but she carries a box of Chinese takeout instead. The community garden looks beautiful tonight, and she wonders if she should put her name on the list for a small plot.
News, half of her takeout, and one glass of wine round out the night. The food will make good leftovers, and the wine will last one more day.
She irons her clothes and hangs them in the closet before bed.
She carefully unplugs the decrepit old flip phone and crawls between the sheets. She opens the phone and plays her voicemail.
“Hi, Honey. Happy first anniversary. The boss said I can leave at 3:00 today. Why don’t you come into town, and meet me. We have reservations at Delmonico’s at 7:30. Alright, talk to you later. Love you!”
The voicemail operator said, Message left, September 11, 2001.
She folds the phone shut and clutches it to her breast. “Goodnight, Honey. I love you too.”
You made me cry again Craig! I’m going to have to stop reading these. It’s beautiful!
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Thank you.
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What a beautiful story, so full of sensitivity, and so tender. There is a different side of you that is starting to emerge, I’ve noticed lately, Craig. I love this story, it really speaks volumes, and brought a tear to my eye. Very well done. This years MM’s are a world away from last year’s so far, can’t wait to see whats coming next week! 😊
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Thank you, that means a lot to me.
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Oh how sad! Well done. Gave me chills.
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Thank you.
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Reblogged this on Legends of Windemere and commented:
Enjoy some more Macabre Macaroni!
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Makes me wonder how many people have old phones with voicemails or some type of ‘last call’ from that day.
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Thanks. I’m glad it left you wondering.
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I drifted into your tense preference on this one too. I like to play with all the tools.
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Funny thing is that I’ve been using the tense for so long that I never realize when I’m reading it. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
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I doubt it’s bad. I just wanted to try it out. Those who pick a lane and stick with it may perfect their style sooner than I will.
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On the other hand, you’ll have a big variety of tricks at your disposal.
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Maybe. They say a jack of all trades is a master of none. Who really knows?
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Yeah, but a master of one can get stale. Guess there’s no right or wrong path.
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There could be one, but I sure don’t know where it is. I’m settling for entertaining myself. If a few other folks enjoy my stuff that’s gravy.
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Totally agree. That path seems more fun to me.
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So very sad and poignant. You really have a flair for short fiction. This was a powerful piece.
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I like writing them. I always want to hide in the corner when I post or publish though. I never know which one is going to be popular or not. So glad you liked this one.
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I haven’t seen one yet I didn’t like!
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Makes my day, thanks. I suppose a good promoter would have plugged his book at the end. It feels cheesy to go back and edit it now.
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You’ll have to make sure you add it at the end of the next MMs!
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That’s the plan.
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Oh how sad. On the other hand, this Macabre Macaroni is fast becoming a favorite feature of mine.
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So glad you’re enjoying it. Tell your friends.
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What friends? Ha, ha…no really.
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Well okay then… Actually, I’m an introvert with nearly no friends myself.
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A writer’s life.
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This was very moving. You’re so good with words.
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That means a lot to me, thank you.
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Reblogged this on Lori Beasley Bradley my writing and commented:
Very nice!
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This was moving. That day kills me. Great job.
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Thanks John. I often wonder about those lost voice messages and such.
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I often wondered about those left behind to listen to those messages and this one was the best.*sniff*
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Good story–and so sad.
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Thank you.
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