I woke up to an unfamiliar ring resonating through the house. It was early, the moon still hung low threw the window and the grass still glimmering. I dragged my feet across the floor to find the source. There, blaring and buzzing on my kitchen table lay the home phone that I never touched, let alone get calls on.
I hesitantly lifted the phone to my ear, dust drifted to my feet.
"Hello," mumbled a voice.
"Hi..."
"Marshal?" it asked.
I paused, "And who might this be?"
"It's... um... Dad." There was a long silence, I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it. Who the hell did he think he was. Not one call. In over five years, he never once picked up the phone to check on his kid. I sat by that phone, waiting for days when Mom died, hoping, praying he would call. The only one left who was family, and he was even less real then Mom. He might as well have died to me that night. I couldn't find words. Actually, he didn't deserve it. "Listen, bud, I know this is far too late, but... The guys, my managers, they're planning the stops on our next tour and wanted to know if I'd be willing to swing by the old stomping grounds, eh?" He chortled. Gathering himself together from his amusement, he turned serious, "I uhh wanted you to know before the news breaks." He took a deep breath, "Call me if you want to meet up. See ya soon." The dull buzz shook through my head as he hung the phone up. My anger built and snapped. The phone flew from my hand to the door and shattered to pieces. I stormed out to the balcony, bristling with fury. I threw open the door and was met with a wall of light. The blinding sun sent me reeling backward. My vision stayed blurred and spotted for a moment. After I regathered my courage I peered through the blinds and hazarded another venture outside. This time when I stood there on my balcony, alone and exposed, the sun had hidden in the clouds. A single snowflake drifted through the sky and rested on the railing.
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