the threads in her head

Who hasn't done it befoe?

She was at the 4th storey.

Below her, she could see the quadrangle. And the small little classroom doors. They looked tiny. Real tiny. The wind was ruffling her skirt, almost about to blow it up. She tucked to the back and leaned against the pillar.

Her hands held the sleek black phone gingerly. What a contrast it was, her in her white blouse and skirt, with that black phone in her hands. She waited for it to ring and vibrate.

It refused.

The clouds floated by leisurely. Big, puffy, pretty. Pretty. Ring phone, ring please. Anything will do. A sentence, a short phrase, a word, a letter, blank. Anything will do. Just something from you please.

Silence.

"Hey, you going in now?"

She looked at the person who spoke. "yea." Took one last look at the clouds, one final check of her phone, and walked in slowly into the room. The door closed. She put the phone away.

Afterwards, after the training session, she would check again immediately. There would be nothing. Or maybe there would be. But it's not the one desired.

Clouds still drift.