This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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Write and you are a writer.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Call


Photo by Kane Hsieh
Visit his blog - Crimson-G-B
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Suggested prompt...
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Write creatively so that we understand what this phone call is about.


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Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Gregg sat down on the steps, away from the rest of the crew. He glanced at his watch. It was just before eight, almost bedtime. He knew she was waiting up for him, waiting for his call before she climbed into bed with her entourage of stuffed bears. He punched the familiar numbers into his phone, pressed it up to his ear and listened to the rings.

She answered the phone breathlessly, excited, as always, to hear from him. He chatted with her about her day in kindergarten and what the new puppy had done.

As usual, before he could say goodnight, she asked him, “Daddy, will you sing with me?”

He grinned into the darkness. “Of course I will, honey.” He glanced around, to be sure no one was nearby, and softly began singing. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star ...” Her tiny voice joined in with his until the end.

Giggling, she whispered, “Goodnight, Daddy. Love you!”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too,” he replied quietly.

Pocketing his phone, he turned to climb back up the stairs and was met with several senior crewmembers, all grinning at him. He shook his head, his face reddening. As he walked through the group of men clapping his back and punching him in the arm, they catcalled. “Hey Gregg, will you sing Old McDonald with me?”. “How about Mary had a little lamb? That’s my favourite!”

He grinned back at them, knowing each one of them, at some point in their service, had done the exact same thing. Their teasing was nothing more than an initiation; their way of saying ‘welcome to the club’.


Crazy Mo


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4 comments:

Don said...

Seven at night on a Saturday. Not exactly the normal lunch time, but Alex was working the swing shift at the airport. Baggage handler wasn't the most glamorous of jobs, but it was good pay with a good company: Swissport.

Saturday meant the kids were home, and this was Alex's chance to call home and chat.

His head was down, his eyes were closed, and by the magic of his cell phone he was transported home to where his heart was.

God, he loves his family. And why shouldn't he? They are the center of his universe, and this is his favorite lunch time activity. I've seen him do this before.

Watching him from above, I silently backed away, pulling my own cell from my pocket.

I have a call to make. Thanks for the reminder Alex.

septembermom said...

"I called to see how Mom is doing."

"Does she want to see me?"

"I realize that she is still hurt, but I can't let my mother suffer with this alone."

"I've decided to come by after work. We'll work it out. I'm still her boy after all."

Dani said...

Charlie usually didn't have his phone on at work, so I was surprised when in the middle of the day, he stepped to the side to pull out his vibrating cell phone for the third time in an hour.

I wasn't one to pry, even with him. Although cell phones were against company policy, I decided I'd let it slide for a few more minutes. After all, he'd never had problems before. It must be something important. However, after this call I thought I'd tell him I need him to put it away for the rest of his shift. Three times is enough.

He walked a few feet away to the stairwell, descended a few steps, and sat. After a few minutes, I approached him.

I didn't want to listen in, really. I just was trying to check to see how long he was going to be. But instead of tapping him on the shoulder, instead of saying something like, "Hey Charlie, you coming?" and instead of attracting any attention, I found myself standing there quietly listening to his distressed voice.

"I told you!"
...
"Well, you should have told her, then."
...
"Here, give me a little more time and I'll fix it. I can talk to her myself. She has always listened to..."
...
"No. I know."
...
"I still think she should know about it, though. What if she thinks..."
...
"You're right; I'll just write her later. Should I leave work early?"
...
"I love you too..."

I thought he was about to get up, so I stepped away. I don't know what possessed me to listen in. I never impose myself like that.

Crazy Mo said...

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Gregg sat down on the steps, away from the rest of the crew. He glanced at his watch. It was just before eight, almost bedtime. He knew she was waiting up for him, waiting for his call before she climbed into bed with her entourage of stuffed bears. He punched the familiar numbers into his phone, pressed it up to his ear and listened to the rings.

She answered the phone breathlessly, excited, as always, to hear from him. He chatted with her about her day in kindergarten and what the new puppy had done.

As usual, before he could say goodnight, she asked him, “Daddy, will you sing with me?”

He grinned into the darkness. “Of course I will, honey.” He glanced around, to be sure no one was nearby, and softly began singing. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star ...” Her tiny voice joined in with his until the end.

Giggling, she whispered, “Goodnight, Daddy. Love you!”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too,” he replied quietly.

Pocketing his phone, he turned to climb back up the stairs and was met with several senior crewmembers, all grinning at him. He shook his head, his face reddening. As he walked through the group of men clapping his back and punching him in the arm, they catcalled. “Hey Gregg, will you sing Old McDonald with me?”. “How about Mary had a little lamb? That’s my favourite!”

He grinned back at them, knowing each one of them, at some point in their service, had done the exact same thing. Their teasing was nothing more than an initiation; their way of saying ‘welcome to the club’.