Cataclysmic Endings

His voice was drunk with sleep. It was almost early morning in his part of the world. The stars had just begun shining in mine.

He asked if I could hear him clearly since he could only whisper. His six-year-old son was sleeping next to him.

We made impractical plans for meeting. In mellifluous whispers, he confessed how he would devour me; with his eyes and mouth and hands.

He said simple things, like, “I love you”, “We should get married soon”, and “I won’t find anyone as devoted to me as you are.” In his seductive voice, the passion behind the words was amplified. Or maybe it was the lateness of the hour which made it seem more sensual. I said even simpler things, like “Thank you for making the time to talk to me” and “I know it’s very late there and you must be tired.”

We fell asleep amidst our plans and proclamations of fidelity and undying love; him with his arm around his son and me clutching the phone to my chest. In case it vibrated again, heralding more enticing revelations and seductive promises.

But the phone didn’t ring again. He sent me an email four days later. His wife had just delivered another baby boy. He forgot to tell me she was pregnant.