When Art Imitates Life Imitates Art...
Oct. 12th, 2008 05:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cedar_groveSo, it was 11:35pm, and I had just written the following line...
Fear… no, it was greater than fear. Panic…
And the telephone started ringing. Instantly my brain went into overdrive... a pang of fear, nope, it was more than that, I had to stop myself from panicing. I started to worry about all the reasons we could be getting a phone call at this late hour. Something happened to Granddad...? Something happened to my brother or dad...? After letting it ring for a few rings, I finally answered it.
It was a /wrong/ number... some young person, who did actually sound quite young. I'm guessing someone needed a ride home and tried to call mommy and daddy for the ride... and while that's potentially bad for them, it was a relief for me.
Fear… no, it was greater than fear. Panic…
And the telephone started ringing. Instantly my brain went into overdrive... a pang of fear, nope, it was more than that, I had to stop myself from panicing. I started to worry about all the reasons we could be getting a phone call at this late hour. Something happened to Granddad...? Something happened to my brother or dad...? After letting it ring for a few rings, I finally answered it.
It was a /wrong/ number... some young person, who did actually sound quite young. I'm guessing someone needed a ride home and tried to call mommy and daddy for the ride... and while that's potentially bad for them, it was a relief for me.
