Friday, 30 October 2009

London Diary (3)

Text Messages. SMS. Mobile phones. Whatever, she never liked them. Despite the fact they had their uses, she never liked sending texts out as a rule. They were sloppy, like e-mails, but only shorter. The never got to the point and they still required a follow up call afterwards.

'Damn,' she thought, 'why did I send "him" the mass text?'

It was only a mass SMS to all the contacts in her phone to tell them of her new number. She was not happy at the turn of events. There was a reply. From 'him'. She didn't mean to contact 'him', but that is the problem with mobile phones, you never get round to updating and deleting the numbers of people you don't really want to contact anymore.

She sent a reply far too quickly, and then regretted it. 'Damn' she thought, but secretly inside of her, she was happy. It was contact, of a sort. And despite the fact that 'he' had not contacted her for months, she was pleased to hear from 'him'. But she was still wary. She knew of 'his' games and more to the point, 'his' whims.

'Damn, why did I reply so quickly to "his" text?'


Another text message from him. She looked at her phone. 'Sod it,' she thought, 'let "him" wait.'

She sank slowly back into bed and smiled. It was a petty revenge, but it was a nice to think that 'he' was waiting for a reply. And with that thought, she drifted slowly to sleep.


Asad said...

Intriguing stuff. But who is 'he'?

el director! said...

more important, who is 'she'...