Chronixx - Like a Whistle

Typically, phone calls are a sort of showdown when something went wrong or someone requires something.
I called and called. The line was busy, and I finally guessed that it would never be free. But every time I dialed a number, for several seconds, I believed that I was about to hear your voice. Lozolda. Legalita. And this hope, this blind blindness of the soul. As if on a ski run before a ski jump into the fog. All that I had time to feel while the dial was returning, quietly chirping the last digit of your fake number, an overturned infinity - because it’s and there was happiness. Eight, two tender stomata under each other, and a slurred line of bushes in a dusty window.