Early Morning Conspiracies
The clock struck one. He rubbed his eyes and forced them to focus on the book he was trying to read. His eyes watered and blurred. It was no use, but he kept fighting his natural urge to crawl straight into bed. Suddenly his cell phone rang and he instinctively turned towards his roommate’s bed, even though he knew his roommate was a deep sleeper. Like he was hiding a confidential phone call from the police, he ran out his door and ducked into the hall.
“Hello?”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Who is this?”
“Listen, I’m just calling to make sure you’re going to be there.”
“Be where?”
The caller laughed. “Oh, very good. Well, I’ll assume that means yes. But just in case: three o’clock at the carillon.”
“What? Who is this?”
There was a click from the other line and then silence. What the hell? he thought, looking at his telephone as if it was an alien object. The hallway was quiet and still, but now eerily so. He knew it was wrong to follow the phone call, but something very strong was trying to convince him otherwise. At first it was a tugging feeling as if someone was trying to lead him somewhere from his insides out. Then it was this excited energy; maybe that was because of danger or exploration or curiosity, but he couldn’t tell.
Then, he yawned. It wasn’t a very decisive or dramatic action, but the excitement left him anticlimactically and he decided to go to sleep and leave any strange dangers waiting at the carillon alone.
Author’s Note on post 342: Another ten-minute story. Don’t know what else to say about it. Thanks to Short Story Ideas for inspiration.
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