The Number

“Hmmm....” she thought as she looked at her friends’ status updates. Looks like Becky decided to go away for the weekend with that new guy she had met at the company party. Ah, well, sighed Alicia. Let’s try Tonya. She fished for her phone in the depths of her bag. It had been one of the things that had been pushed down in her angry rush to escape the firm. She came up with her red phone and a piece of paper. The number. A voice in her head told her to be angry. But this voice was distant and faint. All she could feel was cold. Even the paper was cold to the touch. She dropped the paper. Or at least that was what she told her body to do. The phone clattered to the floor and bounced under the large chair in the living room. She was left staring at the paper on the floor, the numbers upright, staring back at her. Her hand picked up the paper. This was how she perceived it: she had told her body to walk over and pick up the phone. This at last she did, but only after she had stared at the numbers for longer than she felt comfortable.