Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hi. Thanks for calling …”

I ended the call, frustrated, pacing about my room.

On my wall hung a quote: “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

Well then.

Glancing at my phone, I dialed again, placing the phone near my ear. The landline in the house went off but I ignored it, shutting my door.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hi. Thanks for calling …”

I pulled the phone away from my ear again, ending the call. Wishing she’d pick up.

Hating that I reached the voicemail again.

I didn’t want to look up, where I know that poster would meet my eyes again.

Looking at my phone, I hit dial and called the last number again, even as the landline went off incessantly to my annoyance.

I didn’t even bother putting the phone to my ear, just waiting. The dulled ringing emanated from my phone.

beep. beep. beep. beep. beep. beep.

Sighing, I put it to my ear.

“…calling us, but we’re unable to pick up the phone right now probably because we’re out of the house having FUN! So if you’d like to leave a message to either Sarah or Mark, just give us a shoutout after the tone!”

I put my phone down and ended the call. Fuck it. She isn’t picking up.

I decided to sleep.

A text message was waiting for me in the morning, the notification blinking. I picked it up hopefully.

[Mark, where are you? The funeral starts in 30 minutes.]

I deleted the message, and tried dialing again.

Maybe Sarah will pick up this time.