You weren't there when I called. It just rang and rang so I figured you were out delegating or relegating. I hung up quickly and didn't leave a message, for I was much to busy to leave one. Or I wanted you to think so anyway. I wonder if it worked or if you just got annoyed at the mysterious call. Was thinking about you in a kind way, the way you think about people that don't think about you except when they have been drinking or when obligated. Your name is still in my phone and when I pass it as I scroll through the characters in my life it scrapes across my memory. If there were a score to be kept of those that call and those that don't, you are far behind. But I don't anger or sadden at this. I realize your life unfolds quickly and without pause. I figure you think of me in quiet moments when no one is around, when the sun is sleeping and you really should be too. So many things get in the way and decide our fate. So many things, small things decide something, this massive thing called our existence. I could get upset and kick and scream. I could shrug my shoulders and move on without holding a memory of it. I prefer to call and not leave a message.