Drabble Nineteen

Condolences

The tinny melody of Frère Jacques issued from Lola’s coat pocket. Retrieving her phone, she checked the screen before answering.

“Hey, John! What’s new?”

There was a pause.

“John’s dead. I thought you should know.”

The disconnect tone still ringing in her head, Lola wondered if this was some sick joke. She hadn’t spoken to John in a year, not since they’d split up. Now this?


As I pressed “End,” a wave of satisfaction washed over me. I was doing a good thing. Not done yet, I reminded myself, and accessed John’s contacts. Going down the list, I dialed “Mom.”