I down the last of my blood and let the book close. Ah, Silas. It’s been a long time since we talked. We left things perfectly amicably, but I think we had something special that could have lasted longer.
I pull out my cell phone and type out Silas’s name. There’s his number. My finger hovers over the call button.
Why do I want to call him? I miss him. Is there more to it? Do I miss him as an old friend, or as someone I love? Or loved? Do I still love him?
Ugh. Being dead doesn’t mean you get rid of all the emotions. They just get more complicated. But I press call anyway. He doesn’t answer.
“Hey, it’s me. Leave a message. Or don’t. Either way, I’m probably not gonna call back.”
BEEP.
“You’re pretty cheeky for a dead guy,” I say to his voicemail. “Anyway, I’m just calling to check in
