the evening's one flaw

“i never thought we’d make it out alive
i never told you but it’s all in your goodbyes
it’s all in your goodbyes…”

the song resonates in her ears, and her heart leaps in anticipation—someone is calling her.
a quick glance at her phone reveals an unfamiliar number
hmm…slight disappointment—it’s not him…
shake it off, shake it off, this could be better
(its amazing the vast array of possibilities that can race through one's mind in the amount of time it takes to answer a ringing phone)

“hello?”—she tries to pull off nonchalance, though her enthusiasm is difficult to mask.

“hello?” pause. “who is this?”

“who is this?”—her reply to the stranger’s questioning tone

“sorry—I think I have the wrong number”

*click*

shoot.
of course you do..
because my mother and sister are the only ones who ever have the RIGHT number...