Tragic Nostalgia and a Mysterious Phone Call

“I know you. I, er, used to know you.” There was an awkward silence. The person on the other end of the line coughed, perhaps to fill up the silence that was developing.

“What did you say your name was?” I twisted the phone cord in my hand.

“Adrian Reed. Don’t you remember?”

I dropped the phone onto my bare toe and swore softly under my breath. Of course I remembered Adrian Reed. But the person on the other end of the line wasn’t him.

“Whoever this is, it’s not funny. Seriously, who is this?” I said, eyes narrowed with skepticism.

“Why would I lie?” I could sense a note of defensive agitation.

“I don’t know,” I said. Tears pricked the back of my eyes. Why couldn’t I just hang up? I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “It isn’t right to play with people like this. Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough?” My voice was quivering.

“How could you not remember?” the voice asked softly.

I DO REMEMBER ! YOU ARE NOT ADRIAN !” I screamed, and slammed the phone down, breaking into tears.

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