Last Sorrow

By: RDV


There was a time when she thought he'd call her, when she'd sit up till night, fighting away slumber just so she could hear her phone beep and read his senseless, almost empty message. The night would come, deepen and leave and she would still be wide awake with expectation. There were times when he had failed to live up to their protocol of five SMS’s to each other every day. She would plunder her head for answers, seeking excuses she'd never hear from him. She never took chances at ringing him first, because that was her personal rule. Even if she could break it, she wouldn’t out of pride. She would sit up on her bed, the cold sheets underneath her, waiting for her to make use of them. But their waiting was, as always, half-futile. She would wonder what it was that kept him from greeting her a good night; was his network stalled? Had he run out of phone credits? Was he sick, in an accident or worse? She would never know the answer, for there was no answer to his misses, at least none that she would understand. She would brace herself for a long night, trying to process again and again his neglect of her. When five in the morning struck, she would realize that he had long since turned off his phone and gone to sleep. Forgetting her.