Fast Fiction Challenge: Cold
Title: Cold
Word: cold
Challenger: apiphile
Length: 200 words exactly I'd been searching for her for three years when the telephone call came.
The ringing interrupted my shower and I turned the water off, grabbing for a towel as I stumbled through the room, drying myself as I went towards the telephone. My hand stabbed out and I pulled the receiver to my ear.
"Charlie?" came a voice I knew so well, moments before I could greet the caller.
"It's me," she said, unnecessarily. As if I could forget the gentleness of her dulcet tones. The voice continued, "I'm safe."
Three years of not knowing, three years of wondering. Three years of hunger for her.
"I... I..." I stumbled over the words in surprise. All my plans, all my carefully worked out speeches. Gone, like they'd never existed, never been planned through the empty nights.
"Don't try to find me," she said. "I'm safe... at last. Safe from you."
"Lisa, don't go!" I cried, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll never do it again."
"Once was enough," she said, sadness suffusing her words.
The phone went dead. It was cold in my hands.
Cold.
Like a children's game of hide and seek, I felt further away from her than ever.
© Lee Barnett, 2005
Word: cold
Challenger: apiphile
Length: 200 words exactly I'd been searching for her for three years when the telephone call came.
The ringing interrupted my shower and I turned the water off, grabbing for a towel as I stumbled through the room, drying myself as I went towards the telephone. My hand stabbed out and I pulled the receiver to my ear.
"Charlie?" came a voice I knew so well, moments before I could greet the caller.
"It's me," she said, unnecessarily. As if I could forget the gentleness of her dulcet tones. The voice continued, "I'm safe."
Three years of not knowing, three years of wondering. Three years of hunger for her.
"I... I..." I stumbled over the words in surprise. All my plans, all my carefully worked out speeches. Gone, like they'd never existed, never been planned through the empty nights.
"Don't try to find me," she said. "I'm safe... at last. Safe from you."
"Lisa, don't go!" I cried, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll never do it again."
"Once was enough," she said, sadness suffusing her words.
The phone went dead. It was cold in my hands.
Cold.
Like a children's game of hide and seek, I felt further away from her than ever.
© Lee Barnett, 2005