Are you awake?
I don’t know what it is…that’s keeping me awake
Is it my lights?
Why’d I turn them on?
I’m awake
Again,
When everyone is asleep
Maybe its because I tried calling the motel
The Seasprite
Where my mom checked in
Six weeks ago
In my new “home”less of a town
A six-hour flight away.
She reached me after adding me on fb.
She waved
I didn’t
She left a message
I listened
I don’t know if I heard.
But
I Finally… called back
Tonight
At 10:53, well-knowing the small, reception window would close at 11pm (the reason I know this is a long night-and another short story)
The man answered
“No mam..Mrs Powder checked out at 8 today”
‘Mrs Powder?…” … still using our last name…
Then I asked, stupidly, “AM or PM?”
“A.M. Mam”
Keep you one second longer,
And her just One-less second
gone-
from me
“Ok then, thank you “
“You’re welcome”…
Wait,,,
Wait;
Wait.
The problem… with phones
They can’t see you
They can’t care
Wait….
I thought
Wait.
I said.
I thought
One second longer so my regret was two seconds too late
I sighed.
Its definitely, Probably-for the best.
I re-dialed immediately
“Please leave your message…”
No answers and no message
Not tonight. Not for me.
Am or pm…? Did it matter?
No…
But He said her first name when I asked for her by last…
I wanted to know
Did she seem ok?
To other people?
That matters you know?
And Is he just other people?
…
I was glad she was gone
Actually… I was relieved.
Is calling someone in hopes they won’t answer ever ok?
How many of us do it?
“Sick” I thought
Thoughts…sick.
Maybe it was the way he said her name… it made me feel like he knew her better than I did
I wanted his name …
When he worked
When he didn’t …
So he could tell me
Something,
Since I knew nothing,
He could tell me
Everything
From this distance maybe anything.
he was my closest link to her and he was gone too
11 pm.
Somehow… my calling after she had left made it seem like she gave up
Like she left me
How dare she not wait..
another day
For me
To call
To care.
But
Somehow, this satisfies me
And that’s why I am awake
writing nothing, like a leaking faucet full of air
draining myself.
I told my dad
“What timing,” he said
He doesn’t know either I suppose
Why did I tell him?
“She’s gone “ I said
…
I can’t sleep.
And it has nothing to do with my mother
General