narrative

I dial her number, the number that will continue to plague my memory for eternity. It rings three times:
“Hello?” Laura said.
“How could you do this, Laura?” I said.
“How could I do what?” She quickly rebutted.
“Don’t give me that.”
“I never said we were going out.” She replied.
“Are you serious?”
“We were together, but never going out.” She retorted.

I remember a time in my childhood when my parents insisted on dragging me around to every one of their social events. I found them quite boring especially because a twelve year olds mind tends to wander frequently. While my parents were talking to their Georgian friends at the dinner table, I was thinking of all the better things I could be doing at that time.