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Random Thoughts Thread


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Wednesday the 5th

She spoke to me last night. I'm certain it was her. I passed a pay phone on the street in Metairie, LA. It rang, I picked up the handset.

"Are you okay?" said a voice.

"Who is this?" I asked. "Maybe you have a wrong number."

"Maybe I do," she said. "But are you okay?"

"I don't know." I said.

"Know that you are loved," she said. And I knew that it had to be her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her too, but by then she'd already put down the phone. If it was her. She was only there for a moment. Maybe it was a wrong number, but I don't think so.

Pages from a journal found in a shoe box left in a Greyhound bus somewhere between Tulsa, Oklahoma and Louisville, Kentucky

Neil Gaiman

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