Cardan
It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
Tinged only with the methodic ticking of the clock in the background.
Tick, tick, tick, tick.
I roll my neck, the muscles popping and groaning.
I still haven’t heard a peep from Natalia. And that doesn’t feel right.
Thing is, I’m distracted as f***k. An emotion that only one person is capable of inciting in me.
Natalia.
I’ve learnt to be focused to a fault, methodical to the point of weeding out any impulsive action.
And yet, my patterns, my systems, and the very foundation of my life is being disturbed by her.
I stare at my phone, and seriously contemplate if I look at it with enough will, something will appear. A message. Any f*****g thing to stop the spiral.
Could something have gone wrong? Maybe the kids taking the revelation horribly. The me
