I have not posted any stories recently and it has reasons. First, being sick for more than a week, did not really leave me with any options other than bedrest, so no writing. Second, I was busy with other stuff and fiction writing somehow took a long pause. But today I wanted to post here a story. A FICTION one. It is an old one written more than a year ago but it is one of my most favorite stories even if not one of the best ones. Inspired by the song by Hinder “Lips of an angel”, again one of my favorites. They both make me cry, the song and the story. Or maybe that’s just my mood.

“Honey, why are you calling me so late?” he sounded worried as she had never before called at such odd hour.

What could she tell him, if she didn’t know herself why she was calling. It just hit her that she needed to hear his voice. There were days when she missed him more than on others. When she needed him more. The days when she cried more. Today was one of them. Being so far from each other in each sense had made things so much complicated. But could she tell him that? Would he understand? Did he feel the same? Or did he get over that?

“Honey, why are you crying? Is everything okay?”

No, nothing was okay, she thought to herself but whispered into the phone that she was fine and just needed to hear his voice.

He smiled. At least she felt he did. Even after all these long years she still could sense things about him, could feel him.

“It is so good to hear your voice saying my name. It sounds so sweet“. In the other corner of the world she smiled back at him.

“Still, angel, why you called? Anything happened?” he kept asking. She had no idea why she had called him up. Maybe it was just a habit. Whenever she felt down she used to call him.

Three years ago when her sister run from home with some soon-to-be-a-rockstar who never had become neither a soon-to-be nor a rockstar. Her sister was 14.
Two years ago when her mom got into hospital and had to undergo a surgery.
One year ago when her dad died.
Finally, six months ago when things had gone so terribly wrong and she didn’t know how to deal with them.

Each time when she was drowning in the ocean of troubles the saving solution was to call him. And he always had been there for her. Shedding her tears, giving support, handling her with utmost care. Nothing had changed and yet everything did. She couldn’t explain it this time. She just felt this urge to call him tonight.

“You know, I dreamt about you last night”, she said.
“Funny, that you called tonight, I have been thinking about you all day long”, he replied.

In two different parts of the world two souls were connected through more than just a phone but an invisible line that was so easy to be broken but yet it seemed impossible for the both of them. They both listened to the silence for a while wondering about what the other might be thinking right now. Both seemed to enjoy this peaceful precious moment they’ve got. One of the moments you never want to end.

He interrupted the blissful silence.

“My girl is in the next room… Sometimes I wish she was you.”
“Does she know you still talk to me?” she asked.
“She wouldn’t like it… Does he have any idea?”
“Not sure if I should tell him…”

And again the silence settled. But this one was different. Silence of regrets and unexpressed emotions.

“I guess we never really moved on”, he said.
“I guess we did not”, she replied.

They were apart and yet they were together. Worlds apart with one thin line which connected them. The thin line of a short life span when they were happy together. Then they had made a decision. A wrong one. One wrong decision which will haunt them till the end of their lives. They know it. And they live with it. And she will keep calling him because those two minutes talks once in a while is the only thing they have left.

And they are happy.

Once in a while.

For a couple of minutes.

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“Honey, why are you calling me so late?”

For those of you who is in the mood for more fiction, please read my story over here and vote.

And you still can take part in Challenge Game.

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