Sunday Scribbling #110: Telephone

I've subscribed to Sunday Scribbling for months now but have never actually participated. The idea behind Sunday Scribbling (which must have originally been posted on Sunday) is "to provide inspiration and motivation for anyone who enjoys writing and would like a weekly challenge." Each week provides a different writing prompt. What comes from that prompt varies widely: poetry, essay, memory, flash fiction, slices of life, or just random thoughts.

Today's prompt: telephone.

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To talk on the phone was all there was. In a notebook, the day’s tally: Lisa (llll lllll lll), Ros (lll), Robyn (llll llll llll llll), Janet (llll), Bryan (llll llll llll ll).

“The lake is windy” meant: “”I can’t say right now; my mother is in the room.”

You could only go as far as the cord would stretch. Your fingers play with the spiral of the cord, always your index finger tucked inside, until claustrophobia presses down too heavily. (Someday in the future there will be cordless phones, then cell phones.)

“Call me.”
“Call me.”
“Call me later.”

Later.
Lisa: colostomy, this summer.
Ros: 10 years or more, no word.
Robyn: turned into a swan
Janet: sending daughter off to college
Bryan: dead, 20 years, 7 months.