Texts

         About a month ago, I read a short snippet of a book discussing short pieces of writing.  An idea of petite short stories came to my thoughts.  I became really excited and bought the book.  I have read about half the book only to be a bit disappointed.  The material is mainly about texts, tweets, Facebook comments and the like.  However, I still like my idea of writing a petite short story to post once a month here on my blog.  So, here is my first one.  Please feel free to tell me what you think.

 

Texts

The alarm’s incessant beeping interrupted her sleep as she reached across the pile of books on her night stand to hit the snooze button.  She closed her eyes trying to recapture the dream, but the images eluded her.  In defeat, she sat up in bed.  The scent of fresh coffee floated into the room, her favorite time of the day.  Standing up, she switched off the alarm and headed to the bathroom for her daily shower.  After dressing, she padded in stocking feet into the kitchen poring herself a cup of black liquid.  At the window she sat watching cars drive past in a hurry to get to their destination.  She flipped open her phone and texted, “I hope you are having a great day.”

            The morning rolled by with meetings, typing, and lunch.  In the afternoon, a colleague stepped in her office with a vein pulsing on his neck.  They discussed the ongoing crisis of his hating his job.  After he walked out the door a little less red and a little happier, she checked her messages.  None.  Sighing in disappointment, she tried again her fingers hit a multitude of letters.  “I am so tired of Greg’s complaining every day.  He needs to just find a new job.”  She caressed the smooth plastic on the front of the phone.

          As the sun descended to the tree line, B’elanna, the Welsh terrier, pulled on the leash as they circled around the lake path for the second time.  She released the cord to let the dog run free as she took a seat on the park bench pulling her phone out of her pocket, still no messages.  She longed to see his name pop up on her phone.  She wrote another.  “I hope you had a wonderful day.”  A cold wind stirred the colorful leaves.  Her hands pulled her sweater tighter.

          With the last light switched off in the apartment, she lay in bed reading until she eyes drooped.  Leaning over she switched the alarm on and the lamp off.  She checked the messages one last time.  Empty.  Falling asleep, her head rested on a damp pillow.