Checked the time. Checked the weather and hourly forecast, to see what might come of the rain. Looked up a film, to see what year it had been, and the lead, to see what she had been doing professionally in the years since. Took a picture of my face. Took another. Another. A fourth. Looked through them, to see if I felt anything in some clear and legible way. Erased the four pictures. Recorded the sound of my voice as it hummed what became the baritone part of a song I’d once sung with a choir. Listened. Erased. Began reading a piece about birds. Began reading a piece about Netflix. Opened the weather. Looked at the path of the rain. Took one picture of my face in reflection, my face against raindrops in blue. Checked the time. Checked your Twitter. Also your Instagram, to see if you had something new. Watched a trailer for a film. Looked at the football scores. Didn’t text. Didn’t scroll to the earliest words, our voices, their plainness, their reach.
