Every Sunday at 10 AM, Lucy calls. Initially, I explained that she had the wrong number. But Lucy forgets. So I pretend to be her dead daughter. We talk. We laugh. We exchange I-love-yous. Every week.
It’s 10:01 AM. For the first Sunday in seven years, the phone stays silent.
Carrie has a poor memory and dislikes talking on the phone.
Well done. Both haunting and tender. Thanks.
Great story. Keep up the good work. :)