by P. S. Power
"Yeah. Let's do that? Thanks. I bet we can do a lot in the time we have, if we hurry. First though, I need to make a call."
It was a bit hard, since everything in him wanted to avoid doing it, but he picked up the landline, and dialed a number from memory.
Oddly enough, it picked right up.
The voice was all wrong.
"Hello?" It was a little girl, instead of Lucy.
"Mom? It's me, Tyler."
"Hi honey! I didn't think you'd be in touch so soon. Is everything all right? Do you need me? The Storm..."
"Nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I loved you. That's all. This stuff is, um, shocking works, don't you think? Or is that just me?"
The voice that answered was high pitched, and youthful. Also chipper.
In a way it was nice to hear.
"Nooo, I think it would be most people. I'm really glad you got in touch. I'm going to be out of town for a few days. Maybe longer. Remember, if you don't hear from me... If you're alive, I am too!"
He laughed, even if it wasn't that funny.
"Good to know. Take care, mom. I'll talk to you soon?"
"Of course."
Then the phone clicked, and neither of them said goodbye. Walking to the door, Tyler looked over at the yawning Calley.
"You should get some sleep. We should get together tomorrow. Dinner?"
That got a mumbled assent, and a hug from her, which was warm. That and wonderful.
Then he and his new dead friends moved out the front door, to walk among the living.
The way he was supposed to.