It had been weeks. Weeks of silence. Days filled those weeks, hours droned out those days, minutes ticked by in the hours. Seconds, dreaded seconds pattered the minutes, like raindrops that fall just too hard and feel like a strike when they hit. Each second was that moment when you slip and start to fall, coated in anxiety and potential. Each second could be the moment the phone rang, each one could be the last moment. The end.
But none of those seconds were the end. Not for weeks. It wasn’t until the sensation of falling became as familiar as breathing, not until the anxiety was as commonplace as blinking, not until they had given up in the silence. It wasn’t until then they heard what they’d been anticipating.
The phone lay by the stove, always ready to be picked up but now comfortable in its uselessness. Of course, it isn’t until comfort is achieved that life does something unexpected.
The phone rang.
“He’s gone,” the voice on the other end said.
“Good,” said the receiver, relief rustling, quelling the apprehension. “Now bury the body and we’ll discuss payment.”
Hello, friends!
I did a different kind of prompt this week, using words instead of visuals. I honestly didn’t know where I was going with my response until I got there, but I’m pleased with how it turned out. It’s a bit of a plot twist from the mood of the song that the lyrics are from.
Speaking of that song, I have a shameless self promotion for you. I recently did a video with my dear friends in which we sang several songs, including this one. It features such hits as Falling Slowly, I Dreamed a Dream, On My Own, She Used to Be Mine, and of course, Say Something. Check it out if you’re interested!
More importantly, I would love to hear what these words and this song say to you. Leave a comment below with your response to the prompt! If you feel inspired, give me a like and a follow! I’ll be back soonish with more writing for all of you.
Thanks for reading!
Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere.
-Anne Lamott
Jayda Louise 
The orderly left with the clipboard which suddenly felt as if it carried the weight of the world, when only five minutes ago it had been not even a pound. She walked briskly. In the room she had exited, the patient sighed. They glanced over at the person standing, staring out the window.
“You know, they say a watched pigeon never coos,” the patient shifted their weight, grimacing slightly when too much pressure was applied to the IV hookup. Settling back into the pillows, they lifted their grey eyes to the figure, still standing, still staring. “Say something.”
The person turned, their face suddenly a mirror into the worst anguish anyone could possibly wish unto another. They took a step towards the bed before sharply halting. They struggled to move their suddenly dry lips.
“S-say something?” they shook their head, “I’m giving up on you.”
With that, they grabbed their coat off the back of the cheap plastic chair and left.
The patient blinked down at their folded hands.
***
I tried, that’s all I have to say about that… SO there 🙂
Also- watch the Pentatonix’s (?) cover of this song. It’s beautiful.
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