• Essays,  Fiction,  Writer's Cafe

    Something Salty

    I stared at my phone, wondering how you got my number. But I guess it didn’t matter, you were already asking questions with a sense of urgency you did not deserve. You asked, could we meet? anywhere! It was all up to me. You just needed some answers. Closure. I try to scan through my memories. The last time you ever crossed my mind was two months ago. I was in the office kitchen, looking out the window, waiting for the water to come to a boil. I thought then “wow, I haven’t even thought of him or found any reminders of him. It’s almost as if he never existed.” It was amazing to feel that…