She was sitting on her desk on a rainy Monday morning, busily working at her computer (pretending to be working, but in actuality, was just wiling the hours away Facebooking). She pulled her large black jacket around her, trying desperately to fight a losing battle with office airconditioner. She adjusted the huge headset that rested on top of her comparatively tiny head, trying to block out the office noise whilst straining her ears for good office gossip.

Her phone rang. She wouldn’t have noticed it above The Takeover UK’s blaring music, but it had been set on vibrate, and her whole desk shook. She picked it up but didn’t recognize the number. She took off her massive headsets, pressed the green handset icon,  and put the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
Nothing.

She looked back at the display and saw that she was still connected to her mystery caller.

“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Nothing.

She stood up and walked to the pantry, fearing that she might have gotten a weak signal at her desk.

“Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
Nothing.

She looked back down at the display. The call had been disconnected.

Strange, she had thought to herself. Looking back at the number, she knew that this was an international phone call. She was slightly disappointed that she had not spoken to her caller since calls like these weren’t cheap. She would know. She’s had her fair share of those. She sat back down at her desk, clicked on her internet browser, and typed in the international code that registered on her phone.

Australia.

There was only ONE person she knew in Australia and she wasn’t about to let the phone call go unnoticed.

She dialled the number.
It rang a couple of times.
She held her breath.
It went to voicemail.
HIS VOICE.
His voicemail.

Please leave a message after the beep ..

“Hey, it’s me. Uhmm .. did you .. just .. call me? This number showed up. Well .. ah .. hope you’re okay. Bye.”

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People, we have contact.