A Step Away

(An excerpt from a project going on, on my myspace blog. This is based on semi-reality but on things I cannot really go into at the moment.) A phone rings... A heart stops. Awaiting the inevitable he mutes the T.V. and places the remote on the coffee table. Another ring and another. He walks slowly to the phone not sure if he wants to know who is on the other line, not sure if he wants to know what the person may ask him or tell him. He continues his slow pace towards the phone with visions of fear flashing in his mind. The phone continues to ring as if in clear spite of his inability to want to answer. He picks up the receiver and looks at the LCD display to see if modern technology can at least ease his angst. It cannot. A number is listed however the owner of that number is labeled 'Unavailable'. He thinks long and hard about who this number may belong to and why it seems so familiar... Nothing... He asks himself, "Why do answer never come to me when I need them most?". The rolls his thumb over the buttons and hovers over the 'Talk' button. Does he really want to answer the phone? "It could just be work", he tries to convince himself only to tell himself he'd know the damned number if it was. "But it could still be work related." He gazes out the kitchen window at the neighbor's house. Consistent silence accompanies the incessant ringing. He decides to answer the phone against his true will. Was it not curiousity that killed the cat? "Hello?" Then the voice speaks to him... A familiar smell. A familiar smell can bring one back to the present or send one sailing into the past. "Old Spice, I believe it was.", he says to himself trying to remember exactly where he's placing this memory. "Did he wear Old Spice?" His mind wanders further back; back to a hot day and an air conditionless car ride. Laying across the bench seat with his head in a lap. "Aahh thats the smell." The aroma of a deoderant or cologne tainted with a days work and sweat come back to him. He has found himself in a long travel of some sort. His guess is either a 45 minute ride to or from.... or a 12-14 hour ride heading north. "Why now? Why am I taken here now?", he asks himself, not fully expecting a logical answer. Something has changed in his life recently and a growing number of memories have begun to flood his mind. His heart is breaking and he hides it well. Well, except from himself. The smells surrounding him currently remind him of a childhood when things were well. 'Well' in a sense of carefree and in a loving environment. A tear almost reaches it's crest in his eye. He remembers his best friend at the time. "Hello?" Powered by ScribeFire.