This morning, as I slowly seeped into conciousness, I heard a voice. As I started to push aside my guitar, this voice sang to me. Silver melodies and golden falsettos left but the faintest beat on my eardrum. They told of the joys and pains in this life; of love, adoration, fascination, hope, calm, failed compassion, grief, and worry. I laid there in a semi-dream state for an hour listening, then realized my phone was cradled against my ear, and the line was connected to a familiar name. I smiled, said "Goodnight," and "I love you," then hung-up.




Use your imagination. This story is true by Tim O'Brien's standards.