"Who is this?"
The phone rang.
"Hello," I said.
"Hi," said a familiar female voice.
The single word carried that curious intonation of those who know you very well and expect you to recognize them right away because of how close the two of you are. Which is why I asked, "How are you?" instead of "Who are you?"
My mind raced through all the people who it could be and dismissed all of them.
"I'm good," she said.
I was at a loss.
"Who is this?"
She chuckled.
"This is Christa."
"Wha...!?"
I sat down. I had to.
It crossed my mind it might be her, but I dismissed the idea because she's in Australia. And doesn't have a phone. And has only been gone a - very, very long - week.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Well, I'm a little thunderstruck."
She laughed.
So did I.
She was on a pay phone at the student union at the University of Sydney.
Amazing the power some people have to drag us from the crappiest of moods.
"Hello," I said.
"Hi," said a familiar female voice.
The single word carried that curious intonation of those who know you very well and expect you to recognize them right away because of how close the two of you are. Which is why I asked, "How are you?" instead of "Who are you?"
My mind raced through all the people who it could be and dismissed all of them.
"I'm good," she said.
I was at a loss.
"Who is this?"
She chuckled.
"This is Christa."
"Wha...!?"
I sat down. I had to.
It crossed my mind it might be her, but I dismissed the idea because she's in Australia. And doesn't have a phone. And has only been gone a - very, very long - week.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Well, I'm a little thunderstruck."
She laughed.
So did I.
She was on a pay phone at the student union at the University of Sydney.
Amazing the power some people have to drag us from the crappiest of moods.
