The phone rings twice.
It always rings twice.
A sultry voice purrs across the line.
I’m so glad you called.
I’ve been waiting.”
She’s always waiting.
“Meet me in an hour.
You know the place.”
I’ve been there a thousand times, but I’m still not sure it exists.
My ears ring.
The rhythmic din of bodies and drums and bass drones through the wire.
I open my mouth to decline, but it’s too late.
She’s hung up.
13 Monroe Street, New York, NY 10002