A long time later, years passed in the quiet rhythm of Oak Creek. The seasons changed, the town gossiped about new things, and my life settled into a deep, abiding peace.
I sat in my quiet kitchen, the morning sun warming my face, enjoying a freshly brewed cup of coffee. The scent of roasted beans and the gentle hum of my refrigerator were the only sounds.
My old flip-phone, a relic in an era of smartphones, sat muted on the table. It buzzed once, a soft, unexpected vibration.
A short text notification from an unlisted, out-of-state number.
It read only: “Are you satisfied?”
I looked at the screen for a moment. The words hung in the air, a phantom whisper from a distant past. No name. No context. Just that single, stark question.
I set the phone back down, face-down on the table, the screen dark. The coffee in my mug was still warm.
I took another sip, savoring the moment, the quiet peace of my home. Some people build their lives on anger and expect you to meet them on the battlefield; they never realize the quietest traps are the ones they set for themselves.
+ There are no comments
Add yours