Distant

The man shifts slightly in his chair. Long hours of sitting do not really help, his head throbs with a gentle ache. He stares at the phone for a while, looks out of the window – everything is still, unmoving – as if everything is waiting… for something.

The phone vibrates, growling softly against the tabletop. He grabs the phone…

Hello (the voice emerges, distant – but appears to be near).

Hey.

Am I disturbing you?

No, no, not at all.

Ok, good. What are you doing?

Nothing… just dreaming.

That’s good.

And you, what are you up to?

Working.

The man shifts slightly in his chair.

Don’t work too hard.

I still have a lot of stuff to finish.

Have you eaten?

I had a fruit just now. And you?

Just had dinner… rice and dal.

You made?

Yeah.

Ok. I called just like that. Have to get back to work.

Great…and I’ll get back to my dreaming.

Ok. Bye.

Bye.

The man shifts slightly in his chair. Long hours of sitting does not help, his head throbs with a gentle ache. He stares at the phone, looks out of the window – everything seems still, unmoving – as if everything is waiting too… for something.

He dreams again…

 

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About victoranish

A theatre worker living in Bangalore.
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