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Nothing’s Changed (Creative Writing)
Member rating: No Rating | Words: | Submitted: Thu Jul 11 2002
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Nothing's Changed By Vicki Holmes When you phoned last night I was clipping my nails. I stood at the window of my bedroom; the phone cradled between my chin and shoulder, and clipped my nails as I listened to your voice. It had, after all, been some time since I heard it and I was, as ever, mesmerised. "I'm coming to town on Friday. I thought we could meet for a drink or something," you said, as if we were and always had been quiet, calm friends. "Sure. Sounds good." I watched the tiny clippings, brittle slivers of dead cells, fall to the floor. We arranged a meeting and you hung up. I remained at the window, the phone burning the palm of my hand. Eventually I replaced it on the hook and sat on the table overlooking the street below. I placed my hands palm down, feeling the cold on...
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