The phone rings
We’re sitting in the living room
Two are reading
One is knitting
Three are writing
The phone rings
Everyone looks up
There is a phone in this room
It rings again
Everyone looks at the wall
They look confused
Milliseconds of scrunched eyes
There it’s perched
In age and wear
Hangs a phone
You suddenly remember the faint memory of it
Being there
It’s always been there
In the corner on that wall
Always
The phone rings
You think you’re silly for not knowing
Someone smirks it off
Ignoring the fact that everyone
Including Him
Had that moment of confusion
But the phone had always been there
He got up and went to answer
But a slice in the thick membrane that is reality
Slips open
And everyone forgets their memory
That one simple everyday memory
Of seeing the phone perched on the wall
The phone was always there
Wall aged around it, cobwebs intact
But you look at it now
It hadn’t been there before
We all freeze
Stare at the phone
The phone rings again
The person who went to answer is still
Hand outstretched
Eyes darting to Me
To Them
To Us
Everyone in the room looks to Him
About to answer the phone
Everyone stares at the wall in fear
To Him, to the phone on the wall
Memories are being altered
The phone that hadn’t been there
But it was there
Who implemented a memory
You can’t be sure is real
Heartbeats chime together
Anticipation wills it to stop
Who’s on the other line?
The phone rings
-Ella
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