Groceries
by Phil Temples
Gladys had just poured
herself a nice glass of Merlot and slipped under
the covers when the text arrived on her phone.
She reached out to the night stand to grab her
phone, careful to avoid knocking over the wine
along with several bottles of unopened sleeping
pills she had purchased earlier in the evening.
Who could that be?
She didn’t recognize
the number. The text read, “I KNOW U PROBLY
DON’T WANT 2 HEAR FRM ME. BUT CAN I PICK UP
GROCERIES 4 U?”
Was it Stephen?
After all these months was he reaching out to
apologize for his despicable behavior? For making
her feel like less than human? For making her
hate herself? Perhaps her months of living in
despair and self-loathing would soon come to an
end. Of course, she would forgive him! She would
give him another chance. They could pick up where
they had left off. Life would once again have
meaning.
She began replying to the
text, “U R very kind to—”
Just then, another text
arrived on the screen. It interrupted her
response, covered up her words, utterly
torpedoing her brief feelings of happiness and
hope.
“SORRY PLS DISRGRD.
WRONG NR.”
Gladys stared blankly at
the screen for a moment. Then, she put the
smartphone back on the stand, reached to the
first bottle, and unscrewed the lid.
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