If this were a movie, the next scene would be you, picking up the phone. Your nails are clean in my imagination, short, neatly trimmed. No sparkly acrylics for you. In a year, the world will have changed, and not even I will be able to get away with that anymore. If this were a movie, even then, we couldn't get away with your coat collar turned up in the desert in 2023. It'll have to be a hoodie. Big, oversized, gender neutral. From the back, washed out by the sun, you could be anyone.
"How long will it be until you find me again?" My voice is clear, with my heavy enunciation, and you recognize it instantly, but there's a lot more static than you're used to pumped through that little silver cord, when you're paying cash for the call, they want to make sure you know it's still connected.
"I thought the amount of time between you finding me and the game being over would be much shorter."
Lucky you, even through the static you hear that breath move over my bottom lip, picture my chest rise and fall, and every other noise in the world becomes inconsequential. Even your own breath, even your heart beating.
"I don't know what you want from me.
Tell me what you dream."