The Phone Call

We sat around the dinner table.
Plates already pushed back.
Empty except for the remnants of peas,
That had successfully evaded the forks,
That were laid defeated across the plates.
Different stories being told across the table.
Bursts of laughter for no reason at all.
Everyone content with where they are.
Almost too good to be true,
And it was.
Through the laughs and murmurs of talking
A phone rings
Nothing to be concerned about
Until they looked at the caller ID
Someone said “Its Ireland.”
Everyone mentally does the calculation.
2 AM
Silence falls upon the table.
No one speaking the words that can’t be ignored
They answer the phone.
Short answers given
No one is breathing.
They put down the phone.
“It’s over.”
Eyes close.
The rest of the night forgotten,
Oh how things can change. 


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