The Black Sun pt. 4

I scroll through every social media and news site I can think of while I wait for Jess to respond but there’s nothing useful. A surprising number of the horde of geeky internet celebrities I follow have posted with pictures, videos or comments about the sun managing to contribute almost as much information as I can find in any news story. Forums, message boards and video hosting sites have more conspiracy theories than I’ve ever seen but these seem almost rare beneath the re-sharing of empty news stories, vapid statements from politicians or even trolls slinging blame at everyone from the government to religious groups to whatever other agenda you could think of.

With the curtains closed my room is almost as dark as night in the diminished light. I can feel myself growing more and more anxious every time I check to see if Jess has responded just to see she hasn’t. At first I try to wait patiently, thinking she must have decided to shower, maybe even so she can drive over with the phone call not connecting cleanly. Almost an hour passes like this and I can’t take it any more.
What the fuck, Jess! I fume silently in the darkness, You call me once then vanish without even jumping online? Goddamnit… Just send me a fucking message if you’re going to shower.

I can’t stand sitting here waiting for an answer, there’s no answers online, I don’t have a car to go to her, not that I could get through that traffic jam anyway. Stepping out of my room I cross the apartment to step out onto the balcony. Cradling my head in my hands I half wished I smoked, at least then I’d have something to occupy my hands or mind.

Looking down the street towards the main street, I can see the police are out, must be trying to get traffic moving again. I try to take some comfort in that thought, but I’m too far gone, too deep in my own thoughts to take comfort in reality. As soon as acknowledging the likelihood of a positive outcome, I imagine two or three more disastrous ones. My mind darts from ’80s apocalypse thrillers, to cosmic horror novels, to those found footage horror films or monster movies.

Another couple hours pass, almost to lunch time, as I continue stew in the anxiety of it all without change. Regardles of how frequently I check, there’s no explanation for what’s going on, just the same old vacuous calls for calm and reassurance that everything is being done to get to the bottom of it.
I’m not even hungry, I’ve been snacking constantly just to try and get my hands doing something. When the ringing of my phone startles me from my thoughts. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I see Jess’ face and answer,
“Where the fuck have you been,” I cry into the speaker, I can hear the hysterics in my tone despite trying to mask, “Why didn’t you call me back after I hung up!?”
“Ty? What are you talking about? I just woke up”

Author: Zairron

I'm writing to build a habit, practice, and be creative.

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