Voicemail

The machine blinks at me it's little red light so loud in the dark room. It screams at me, "She called, you fool. She called!" Yet, I watch it blink a minute more and listen as it rings some once more. She wants to speak. I know it's her.

My chest is knotted as I push it down. My lungs feel shallow as I try for air. Maybe she'll be different when I pick up the phone. I want to believe the lie I've been told. She could listen, maybe even understand…

But I sit where I sit and I watch the little red light flick, screaming at me, "Last chance, you fool, you'll lose her. This is it."