Little did I know when I picked up the phone yesterday that I'd be hearing a voice I haven't heard in well over a year.
"Hi," she said. "It's me."
Psychologically, I was like that Munch painting, frozen in a silent scream, but physiologically, it was more like a Brueghel scene, a chaotic bustle of activity. Palms sweaty, heart racing, stomach flipping.
We talked for a bit, catching up on the old times. I told her about the drivers license situation, the floor, about working the night shift, you know, the same old stuff.
And then she told me what she's been doing the last year. It's been quite eventful, to say the least. What started out as a possible case of the flu turned out to be something else.
You can see where I'm going with this...
Long story short, I saw this girl yesterday --who I'm going to leave nameless for now-- and took this photo. Meet my son, Clarence. I think he looks just like me.