the opening line
He’d been trying and failing to fight off an opening line to a story.
Ringing at the other end of the line. Clicks and long distance ghosts. A faint far away voice, perhaps in time, saying the name Agnes three times. Then the hollow plastic sound of hanging up. Vera answered on the forth ring.
“Hello, Vera. It’s Nathaniel.”
“Nathaniel. Where are you? What’s 604? We’re all so worried.”
“It’s Vancouver, 604. I’m in Vancouver at a motel.”
“No. Canada. Vancouver Canada.”
“Canada? My God that’s so far away.”
“Only a few miles from Washington. “
“Why there? When are you coming home?”
“It was the first flight out, so I took it. It’s nice here. Kind of like Disneyland. The streets are clean. I’m on a street called Kingsway. It’s raining.”
“Get to the airport. They have one don’t they? Get to the airport, and get…
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