Short Story Time

Seven Missed Calls

It was the fleeting hour of the day when the moon and sun were high and bright at the same time. Like many things in my life, these summer nights wouldn't last much longer. I sat quietly on a park bench covered in stickers promoting local bands that never made it out of this town.

Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt!

My chest pocket started rustling as my phone screen lit up with my mom's face on the caller ID. I place the phone next to my lap and wait for the vibrations to die out. I don't hate my mother, I just hate having a conversation turn into a monologue that seems to drone on forever. Admittedly, my biggest fear is answering and learning that one of my family members died. I suppose not answering works as a defense mechanism towards staying ignorant at such an inevitable truth.

Caw! Caw!

My eyes dart calmly to a flock of birds flying overhead. I sit and stare as their freedom to fly as far as their wings can carry them ignites a playful envy in me. 

Looking at the time, I realize my break is over and walk back to my car. 

THUNK!

Note to self: Make sure the target is fully dead before putting it in the trunk.