by Sine Qua Non

At three in the morning my phone quivers in silence, prompting me quietly of the arrival of a message, of a thought of me that occurred in someone’s mind somewhere.

I pick it up and, before I touch the screen to reveal who it is, your name quivers from my lips. Silently, I release a prayer to the universe hoping that you would give me a thought. That it occurs to you that I exist and that I matter enough to be thought of at 3am.

Your name remains idle in my phone book, absent from my phone’s screen. It flashes itself inside my mind. And that’s all that remains of it: a name inside my head.

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