Friday 28 September 2012

Straight to voicemail.

Well, this is humiliating but after waiting forty extra hours I really don't fucking care.
She swings a string of pearls on the corner
The streelight reflects the light on the water
The string, it snaps and the pearls go sailing
And they splash and bounce and roll cross the wet street
It's difficult to be the messenger, knowing I'll be shot for sheer lack of information, knowing I am already dead.

PJ can't process my news. What do you mean you don't know when he'll be home, Bridget?

He didn't say. 

August's turn. But did you ask? 

Yes, of course. He didn't even acknowledge the question. It was a twenty-second call.

Ask Caleb. This, from Dalton.

He hasn't responded to anything yet.

Is Ben okay? Gage is uninformed and curious. Curious = caring, that's good.

I heard from him late last night. Daniel speaks up. He asked me to pick up some strings and cables before he gets back. He asked if you were okay. He didn't let on anything was weird. Sounded fine. Tired but fine.

Maybe he's just distracted. You know he gets when he's there. Like a kid who's had too much sugar and-

Bridget, He knows you don't like it when he's away. Andrew is frowning at me.

Remember when he went out to do the shows and hardly called? He's always been like this. I'm sure he's fine.

Want me to go fetch them? Duncan stands up, as if flying to New York will take half an hour instead of half a day. It was supposed to be a thirty-hour trip and still nothing.

I shake my head. Just keep trying him.