Disconnected

He wondered what happened to her. Tall blonde with emerald eyes. Last he heard she was out in California. Posing for magazines. That’s what she told him.

They used to talk for hours on the phone; evening till deep into the night. Talked about high school, movies from the past, places they went; the coffee shop downtown, sneaking into bars with fake ID’s. She’d always wear a dress. Made her look older. He grew a cheesy mustache.

Both of them moved on. He got married and so did she. They stopped talking. Didn’t think it was right. She claimed to be madly in love with a screen writer. Some guy who wrote action films. He married a Catholic girl from the Northside. Neither marriage worked out. Both ending in divorce. They began thinking of each other again. They’d look at the phone for hours. Wanting to make that call. Sometimes he’d call her old number just to hear a voice say, disconnected. He’d smile. Took out an old year book and looked at her picture. And, she did the same; a thousand miles away.

Blonde hair turned gray. His head now had a crown. He’d spend his days fishing while she walked upon the beach. Daily rituals kept them alive; alive and alone. Wondering briefly, what could’ve been. Had they just taken a chance.


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