2:30 AM — SOMEWHERE IN FIJI:
The phone rings in a darkened hotel room. It rings again. And yet again. Finally, a slender hand appears out from underneath the covers and awkwardly feels for the phone receiver, picking it up just at the end of the fourth ring.
“Hello?” the groggy voice manages to say.
“Hello, Muse?”
“Smivey? What time is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s about 7:30 in the morning here. Did I wake you up?”
“Uh, what do you think?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I’m on vacation.”
“Yeah, I know. But I thought you’d be back by now.”
“Well, I like it here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s quiet and everyone is so friendly.”
“I see… uhh have you thought about me?”
“Not really.”
“Oh. Hm. Well, I kind of miss you.”
“That’s nice. Having trouble with the blog, are we?”
“Whatever gave you that impression?”
“I have free WiFi here.”
“Oh. Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything.”
“Yeah, we need to talk about that.”
“Yeah? You have some ideas for me?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that…”
“What?”
“Well, I met a poet.”
“A poet?”
“Yeah. He’s such a damaged soul, ya know?”
“I have a damaged soul.”
“Not really. Not like his.”
“Well, I can make it more damaged.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something. I can’t believe you’re leaving me for a poet.”
“Yeah, I thought you were good at brooding, but this guy is a master. He broods, like, twenty-four seven.”
“I see.”
“You going to be OK?”
“Yeah, I think so. Can you throw an idea my way, just for old time’s sake?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Well, if I give you one more idea, you’ll only end up wanting me back more.”
“Hm. Yeah, I guess. Well, I hope you and your poet have a nice life together.”
“Really? Do you mean it?”
“Uh, no. I’m fucking jealous.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Well, I guess I better get going. Sorry about waking you up.”
“That’s OK. Gino’s up now.”
“Gino?”
“The poet.”
“Oh, fuck. Like I needed to hear that. Thanks a lot. Bye.”
“Byeeee heeeheeeheeheeeee ohhhh Gino! Stop!”
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