Allison sits at the dinner table eating reheated pasta - leftovers from last night - in a red bowl. Her movements are slow so as not to use too much energy in this ungodly 43 degree heat. Anyone that looked at her might have mistaken her for a zombie. Or a vegetable. Or a broken arm-moving cat, where its arm moves to the bowl and back ...
A light catches her eye. It's coming from her phone. Who could that be?, she thinks to herself. Breaking the cat cycle, she puts down her fork and picks up the phone. Her heart skips a beat when she sees the number plastered on the screen. No ... it can't be. She looks side to side, curious whether the person calling her is somehow watching her. Maybe he wants to see what she'd do next ... maybe its something more serious than that.
But he KNOWS that Greg ISN'T here....
Allison waits for the end of her Dr. Horrible ringtone to slide up her phone and face her nemesis, finally deciding to answer the phone.
"Hello?" she says cautiously. A familiar voice answers on the other end.
"Hi, can I speak to Greg?" No you may NOT. Allison's slight hesitation hits a nerve with the caller. He becomes anxious and unsure, nervous even. "Or. .. er... is this, if it is .. Greg's phone? (repeats mobile number)" He knows what will happen if it isn't his phone... oh yeahh they remember me :D .
"That's the right number," She starts off politely, her tone understanding and kind. Then as soon as her friendliness is summoned, it disappears. Her voice hardens, it drops in pitch and her eyes narrow for effect. "But this isn't Greg's phone."
And before he can reply, she hangs up.
Ohhhhh SNAP! True story.
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