Listen to Your Voice

Friday the 13th. A day filled with superstition. When one’s instincts 

sharpen and try to tell us a thing or two.

They’re worth paying attention to.

Listen to your voice.

☎️ · 📞 · ☎️ · 📞 · ☎️ · 📞 · ☎️

The phone’s dial lit my pitch-dark bedroom quietly on Friday the 13th. That day.

 The time displayed on the alarm clock – 1:13 a.m. 

A number I didn’t recognize.

One of my many coaching hopefuls.  I stared at it for a while, then 

tapped to minimize it. 

The phone continued to blink silently.  With increased speed.

Greater  urgency .     

But my day had been exhausting,  so whoever it was could wait.

But the called returned. A few times.

Punctually.

Always at 1:13 a.m.

My fingers tapped the screen to answer it, almost an instinctive reflex. 

Curiosity itch, and I had to scratch. 

And scratch I did. I finally picked it up. 

But there was no salutation. No acknowledgement. 

Just – breath.

Too loud, through the speaker. 

Then a voice. A heavy warning. 

“You never picked up.”

Then –

Click.

 The ringing was starting to peck at me. So I checked the call log. 

But something was off 

The log displayed MY number. Three days after the fact. 

The phone knew what came after. 

It  didn’t ring for three days.  Then,persistent ringing.

Exactly three days later.

It had dialed itself.

My number.

Something in its reflection stepped out, too gently. 

Standing behind me, in the mirror.

That deliberate grin I was too familiar with.

Someone I knew too well.

☎️ · 📞 · ☎️ · 📞 · ☎️ · 📞 · ☎️

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