The sun was rising when Sam parked her car in the lot outside her apartment building.  She sat in the quiet car after shutting off the engine and went through a habit her mother taught her as a little girl after a bad day at school.  She imagined pushing all the bad thoughts and feelings into balloons outside her head, but in the car.  This morning took longer than usual, even waiting a few minutes to make sure they were all out.  In her mind, the car was crowded. Reaching to open the door, eyes still closed, she imagined the balloon floating up and away as she opened the door.  All that bad juju floating away like helium balloons.
She wasn’t taking that into her home with her this morning.  Her mood improved on the short walk to the door.  Needing to fill her mind with positive and pleasant thoughts, Sam clicked on music on the way to the bathroom, flooding the apartment with ‘happy music’.
Sam showered completing the cleanse not only of her mind, her spirit but her body, too.  It didn’t help, thought going through the motions did ease the tension in her muscles; her mood was still confused and quite probably shock.
Sam decided to flip off the music, which hadn’t helped near enough, and began flipping through comedy movies to watch until she feel asleep on the couch.  She didn’t want to take this mood to her bedroom, afraid that the dreams to come would linger longer than she was prepared to deal with.
The phone rang just as she had begun to relax enough to chuckle, not just smile at the jokes and physical comedy flashing on the screen she would have normally laughed loudly at.  The sharp sound of the noise on this morning coming ominously from her phone.
Muting the movie, before looking at the caller id, if was from no number.  Sam looked at the area code followed by 000-0000.  A private unidentifiable number, who would be calling her?  She chose not to answer it.  Let them leave a message.  Ignoring the call, she turned the volume back up on the movie and snuggled deeper into the couch.
Sam was awoken by the sound of her phone voicemail, seems that non-number had left her a message.  She was wide awake and decided to listen to it, hoping her curiosity would be put to rest and so could she.
The male voice was calm, polite and serious.  “Sam, this is Dylan Thomas, if you could return my call, I would appreciated it. I have some questions about last night if you don’t mind answering.  Give me a call back at . . . .
So that was the mysterious number.  Must be a working cell from the station and not his personal number, or maybe it was.  Sam decided to try to sleep a little more before calling him back.  If he had questions to ask, she wanted to be rested and ready to hear and answer them.  Right now, she was still exhausted.


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