phone_call Sonya A quiet afternoon is interrupted by an anticipated ringing. Suddenly voices chirp in recognition and long lost hellos. Hugs are exchanged through overused phrases like "How you been?" or "So what's new with you?" The phone calls keep coming and yet they are almost all the same. Relatives pretend to care when they call out of some hidden obligation. (Perhaps to check if the person is still alive?) Absence is excused through saccharin laced verbal compensation and all is well. Life continues its monotonous patterns. Then the thunderstorms roll in. On the dreary days when everyone is busy with their own sad little lives, the phone rings again. We hesitate, thinking that it's not really happening, but it rings again. Slowly we pick it up through our tears and immediately comfort hits us in the face (or maybe the ears?) A phone call, no matter how dull, is always welcomed (unless it's from a telemarketer!) A five minute conversation could be enough to save someone. These little verbal handshakes and hugs should always be loved. Some people are forced to stare at their phones for days on end only to hear silence. I'm glad I hear mine ringing every now and then. The recurring thought in my head these days goes back to the state: "I need a phone call." The white cordless sitting on my old dresser never looked so priceless. It's been hugged, and it will always be hugged. I'd take a 2 minute "Catch you later" over the harsh dialtone any day. 020503 ... bijou i could imagine he was standing in the street, smoking angrily, probably pacing. can't talk long, gotta catch a train. rant rant. i'll call you back tomorrow. i gotta get your address. softly then, i want to be your valentine. awww. 040206 ... crOwl right_number 040206 ... DammitJanet It was one of the phone calls from my childhood that i remember the most. I think i was 9 at the time. Judging from who my sister was dating at that time, i'm pretty sure it was. Colin didn't last long. My parents were out at a friends and my sister was babysitting me. She wanted to go out to the store, down to Murphy's variety because it was farther down the street than the one beside us. I was scared to be alone. But she promised to be back soon and i trusted her. It was no more than 2 minutes later that the phone rang. I knew well enough never to say i was home alone, but the caller already knew that. It was a man, he asked how i was. If i was scared to be alone. I assured him i wasn't but he already knew the truth. He asked if he could come upstairs. I hung up the phone and ran to the front and back doors in our little townhouse to make sure they were locked. The phone rang again and it was the same man. He soothed his voice, saying it was okay, he just wanted to talk. I quietly dragged the phone with its enormously long phone cord to the front window where the curtains were closed. I peeked out to see a man in a black leather jacket at the phone booth at the front of the plaza. I wondered if that was him. I yelled at him to leave me alone, that my sister would be back soon, and hung up again. The man at the booth did the same. He then looked up and walked towards the door. I heard the bottom door open and footsteps up the stairs. The door was tried. Then he knocked. He whispered it was okay, that he knew i was alone, and he wanted me to open the door. I was frozen. I didn't even breathe. I shook in my place, willing him to go away. He finally did. I watched him walk back to that phone booth, pick it up and dial again. The phone rang and i didn't answer. I was paralyzed with fear. I didn't know who he was, why he knew my phone number, where i lived, that i was home alone. How long had he been watching me? After a few tries, he seemed to have given up, yet he still stood there, staring up at the window, knowing full well i was there staring back. My sister came home then. She asked what my problem was, why i was sitting on the floor, why the phone was out. Called me a wimp because i was scared, she could see it on my face. But i never uttered a word. I looked back out the window then and he was walking away. All my sister could do was threaten me to never tell mom she left me alone. And i never did. I never told anyone at all. 040206 ... belly fire I lead you follow I listen you tell the story this game we play. 080626 ... raze it's such a precious thing to talk with someone you care about and who cares about you, and to feel their voice curl around you like a vine through the miles and wires that separate your bodies but can't do a thing to divide your souls. 240329 what's it to you? who go blather from