Ficlets

A Little Late

I’m one tube stop away and five minutes late, for some reason I get out and walk the rest of the way. It’s not a long way on foot so it won’t make me much later.

Once I’m out the in the open air my phone wakes up and starts informing me of calls it missed while it slept undrground. There’s two from you and a short but urgently written bit of text that reads, “where are you?”.

I stop as I read it, I don’t know why. It’s been three years since I last saw you but maybe you’re the same person you were then and that’s not who I’m here to meet. Walking again, I start replying to let you know how close by I am but my fingers don’t type and then my legs once again stop moving me towards you.

I turn and take the tube back home, “sorry, can’t make it. x” I text as I resurface once more. Later that night you send me an email, saying you wanted to meet up to apologise for how you were, to apologise for everything.

Now you’re on the other side of the world again, and I wish I could see you, to see who you are now.

View this story's 3 comments.