A woman’s voice answered, “Hello?”
Walter cried back at her, “Hello, oh Lord, hello!”
“This is a recording,” recited the woman’s voice. “Miss Helen Arasumian is not home. Will you leave a message on the wire spool so she may call you when she returns? Hello? This is a recording. Miss Helen Arasumian is not home. Will you leave a message -“
He hung up.
He sat with his mouth twitching.
On second thought he redialed that number.
“When Miss Helen Arasumian comes home,” he said, “tell her to go to hell.

Every person has his secret; in reverie, unbeknown to others, he finds peace, freedom, sorrow and love.

He could see her, but dared not remain for fear of annoying her by seeming to be spying upon the pleasures which she tasted in other company, pleasures which – while he drove home in utter loneliness, and went to bed, as anxiously as I myself was to go to bed, some years later, on the evenings when he came to dine with us at Combray – seemed illimitable to him since he had not been able to see their end.

1 2 3 34