I Still Miss You.
I was laying in bed next to this crazy woman who had convinced herself that we were in love with each other when the phone began to ring. I looked over at the wall and watched it shake itself free from its bonds to strike against the floor, knocking the receiver free. From across the continent the tinny voice of a girl I'd loved for longer than I knew how to breathe called my name, "Charlie? Are you there? I really need to talk to you."
I walked over to the phone and laid my head against the cool tile. This is Charlie, how may I direct your call.
"Stop being funny. I'm in trouble."
I picked up the receiver and walked over to the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of punch, What seems to be the problem darling?
"I think that my roommate is trying to poison me."
I snorted out a laugh, Be serious now, kid.
"I am damn it. I came into the room two nights ago and she had made these brownies for me. She even had a big sign up with hearts and everything on it."
"I haven't stopped shitting since."
So she's a bad cook, that doesn't mean she was trying to poison you.
"You've got to believe me, Charlie, she's trying to kill me."
"Because I told everyone that she's so bad in bed that after a boy fucks her they beat off for half an hour with kerosene to get her stench off of them."
That might be a good reason to hurt you, darling, I said through a laugh that woke up the crazy bitch. So how's that fine ass doing?
"Still growing," she said with an audible pout, "how's that tiny dick of yours?"
Still saluting in the morning and writing me letters at night about the awful places I've been sticking it. She giggled and the phone grew silent as I counted her shallow breaths.
"I miss you."
I miss you too. Don't wait so long to call me again.