I’ve always hated phone calls. I’ve changed a lot under this point of view, lately. I’d still, just as before, rather look at a person in the eyes, make them fantasize, make them feel my presence, maybe in front of a coffee or a nice appetizer.
Alcohol brings advices, weird ones, but stil advices.
But this is not a alcohol story, but a long one, cause it lasted a long time.
“I need to hear you every morning before I head to work”
So every morning, just like a Swiss watch, at 7.01 am, from Monday to Friday, she used to get out of the house and call me. We used to talk on the phone for half an hour and I often heard her panting. Her voice was relaxing, suave. But she told me her things and “toured Australia”, as a toy, as a pleasure to share with a perfect stranger distant 500 km. But yet, I enjoyed it so much, because despite everything, my home situation wasn’t going the right way and every single attention I could get was a motivation.
I met her on an IRC chat, I never saw her, if not in pictures. But despite everything, it was intriguing.
A ton of months have passed, way too many. But I can’t forget her voice that easily.
Who knows where she ended up. If she follows me, if she hides among those people who “stalk “ me.
I’m trying again…
Call me! Maybe tomorrow at 7.01 am!