I sat hunched over the desk, scribbling furiously, hoping to get this history essay out of the way before tiredness at last took hold. My eyes were already beginning to flicker up and down, and my wrist felt like it was strapped to a particularly heavy rock. A breeze swept through the room, blowing one half of the curtains irritatingly into my face, and I got up with a sigh and closed the window. Just as I sat down again to continue my work, the light bulb in my lamp crackled and fizzed out, leaving my desk consumed in darkness. It was going to be one of those nights.
The wind had swept my paper onto the floor. As I began to reach down to collect them, I heard the familiar sound of my ringtone and felt the vibration against my leg. I stopped and grabbed the mobile out of my pocket, quickly flicking it open.
“Hello?”
“Hey Ben. It’s Nat.”
I sighed, “What is it?”
“Don’t say stuff in that tone. I was just wanted to talk.”
“You always just want to talk.”
“Look, Ben, I tried to start this politely. Do you love to make me feel like crap?”
“Alright, Nat, I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough day.”
“Aww, what happened?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess. I just feel like shit these days.”
“It’s not my fault, Ben, I’ve tried and tried…”
“Did I even say it had anything to do with you? You’re so wrapped up in your own little world, perhaps you didn’t realise that maybe I’m annoyed at something else?”
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
“You think you affect me that much? I’m not gonna be depressed over you, if that’s what you think.”
“I didn’t say that. So are you gonna tell me what’s up?”
“No.”
“Fuck you, Ben.”
The phone went dead. I took a deep breath. Talking to Natalie was like having a conversation with a brick wall. Nothing penetrated that thick skull of hers. It made me so mad. And then my phone rang again.
***
Not much to critique, I'll post some more up later.
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