..."am calling you tonight, take my call."
"I can't. You know I have problems, will call you at 4, normal time"
The muffled vibrations woke me up. Bleary eyed I felt around for the digital bedside clock I got from my great grand-mother on my 12th birthday. It was still dark outside, the clock said it was 3.56 am. It could be only one person at this hour, "Hey, Morning!"
It was almost 4. My head hurt. Was it because of all the smoke in my brain, or the 4 shots of vodka the night before? Who cares?
"So what are you doing?"
"Nothing. Was sleeping. My head hurts."
"Didn't you get any sleep?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Vodka yaar! There was a party."
"You took alcohol again?"
"Yes. What's the harm?"
"Did you smoke?"
"Ummm... not exactly, I mean, one puff..."
"So you smoked? You promised me that you would never touch a cigarette, and you smoked?"
"Promises? Blaah! They don't mean a thing to me. C'mon ya, just one puff...."
....the emptiness was defeaning. The busy line indicated that she had hung up. I lit a cigarette and sat down. I knew she would call back. This time, she never did.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
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6 comments:
this one's nice....
hmmmm thanks.
sad,teary and depressing...
but nice
promises are not meant to be broken........... nice one as always.........
well well i did not to you blogged!!!
ill be visiting more often
:(
nice.
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