[Story Challenge] Short short stories.

Why hasn’t he called me?

It wasn’t the cold of the window, the numbing freeze against my cheek that bothered me. The glass trembled against the heavy heavy rain. But it was still cold, even under all my thick winter clothes; I was standing in a long corridor, safe from the rain.

Downpour washed the window. Beyond the window, a glassy sky opened; twisted by the storm, blended in hues of dark gray.

I pulled up my glasses, making the corridor before me dull and distorted. The world around me lost all shapes and I could only see lights of gray in a blue hue. I kept staring out the window; as far as I could see. It was all blurry. But I could clearly see the vague shapes of windows on the apartment blocks far far ahead.

In the rain; I could see a blazing light. A roaring fire coming from downtown. My heart skipped a beat. With a racing heart I started trembling - it was the silence that was shattered by a sharp noise. The sound came from my phone as it was ringing. With a trembling hand I placed the glasses back on my nose, to see who the caller was.




. . .

It was him.