Phone Interlude

A quick, sharp feeling dominates momentarily while speaking to my ex.

"Dad's picking us up at nine," my boy scrapes his chicken bones in the trash as he shares this tidbit.

Hmmm. Mentally reconfiguring her agenda to fit the change of plans came easy to her. The fact her ex used the kids as messengers made her skin crawl. The way his silence created a thin film of annoyance between their brief interactions pissed her off.

She grabbed her phone and dialed her ex's number (trying to ignore the peculiar way she refused to make him a contact).

"Are you coming at nine to pick the kids up?" she sculpted the irritation in her voice into a fine trophy of neutral shades.
She expected to hear a*****e mode but was stopped by his low, gritty, almost easy response. For an instance, a flash of familiarity rippled through her body. A wave of emotion, like an undercurrent, watered her eyes and twisted her heart. The lump in her throat swelled as she swallowed hard. She didn't have a place to put that warmth she felt in that moment. Like snapchat, the message was sent, then gone with the next interaction.

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

Good writing, terse and tight with relevant telling detail up until the interior monologue of the final paragraph.

[Val]

What was it you didn't like about the interior monologue? I do remember getting tired and felt rushed to finish...is that the vibe you experienced? Did it seep thru my writing?

[Delmar Cooper]

Interior monologue is almost by definition "telling". All that went before was the classically elegant and most "writerly" method of "showing." My personal feeling is that good writers ignore the posed speed limit when the road is clear.

[roarke]

Each hunk precisely chiseled. Nice crafting. Write more.

[Val]

Thanks roarke, for the green light. It is encouraging.