ringing phones, wringing hands

that cynking feeling

“Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice mes-”

I hung up. Peter always gives me his phone to check voice mail, and I didn’t want to listen to my own voice later. Besides, I expected to hear his ring tone at any moment. I imagined he was changing Philip’s diaper in the other room or didn’t hear the phone even if he was sitting nearby. I read a few more pages of my lunch break novel before I called again. He didn’t answer, but I hoped that the beep signaling my missed call would be loud enough to catch his attention.

He didn’t call back.

I tried one final time before going back to work. When he didn’t answer, I emailed him a reminder to use his inhaler.

An hour later my cell phone rang, but it wasn’t Peter. When I hung up, I knew that my phone was fully functional. I redialed Peter’s number.


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