Bookmark #143

Life. You go out with a friend. You stand at the bar. A stranger joins you. You talk about stuff. You agree. You disagree. You clink some glasses. Some beer is spilt. An hour goes by. Let’s do this again, you say. The spirit is cheery. You exchange numbers. You never meet again. Goodbye.

Life. You’re walking. You see a caf√©. You walk in and to the counter. A hello to the barista. They remember your order. You bump into a person. Sorry, I didn’t see you there, you say. It’s okay, she replies. You wait for your coffee, together. You ask a dumb question. The conversation flows. You exchange numbers. You never text again. Goodbye.

Life. You pack a backpack. You go to the mountain. You meet a merry bunch along the way. You talk to them. You reach the ocean. You tell them everything. They do the same. You call each other friends. You gaze at the sky with nothing but stars. You camp in the desert. You exchange numbers. We’ll stay in touch, you say. You don’t. Goodbye.

Life. You run into an old friend. You learn where they are. They’re doing great. Small talk. You realise it all works out for everyone, eventually. You talk for some time. You tell them you gotta rush. They tell you they’re busy too. Let’s make time to meet, you agree. You exchange numbers. You don’t make time. Goodbye.

Life. You’re stuck inside your house. The world is in flames. The day is almost over. You don’t know what to do. You lie down for a bit. Tired is an understatement. The apartment stays quiet. You play some music. You recall it all. You open the contact list. You scroll up and down.

You start typing.

Hi, life never allowed. I’m sorry I never really got back to you. I don’t know if you have this number or if the one I have is correct for you. I just wanted to say it was nice talking to you that day. I hope you’re doing okay. Take care.

Life. The phone stays silent. Maybe, they switched numbers, you tell yourself. You fall asleep. The phone beeps once. The phone beeps twice. You don’t budge. It stops buzzing. You wake up in the morning. You check your phone. You smile. Sorry, I fell asleep, you type. Let’s get in touch soon.

You never do. They never do either. Goodbye.