That.... Never Comes!

I wait for your call. The unwatched kettle boils itself dry bottom burnt black. The hands of the clock pass the hours to each other so incredibly slow l y. Your call awaits me. The phone rings. And...an excited woman's voice tells me of the exciting things she'll do to me when I get home to bed ...if my name were only: Fred. Embarassed(both) the wrong number hangs up. I await your call. The phone looks startled almost jumps off the hook as some stupid jerk tries to sell me something I don't want. I tell him to go forth & multiply or words to that effect. Waiting upon your call I go & pee watching the phone all the way from the bathroom when suddenly it rings...I...wet my knee. Damn! It's someone I don't know who wants to know if Mary Jane still lives there 'Oh no...where did she go? ' (I don't care...don't know!) 'And when did she go...? ' (I don't know...I don't care!) 'Please...please...just go away! ' For God's sake! I slam the phone down (almost crying) . I wish aloud 'Please...no more calls! ' And get my wish. No one calls all the rest of the night ...rest of the week. No one. Not even you. I listen to our row caught by mistake on tape as the tape played itself out whilst recording something else. On tape I hear you cry. I cry now. Hear your voice. Imagine your face. Waiting for the call ...that never comes.