The phone call of God

The apartment was silent, the voices behind the wall have already subsided, the sun was motionlessly staying in the sky, the wind was not moving the branches, the hands of the clock were firmly standing at one place. I was not waiting for anyone that evening, and no one was waiting for me. Suddenly my phone rang and I picked it up. It was God. He did not know what to say to me, and I did not know what to answer, we were wanting to sympathize with each other, he so wishes me happiness, and I so stubbornly do not want to notice it ...

He said he would call back and put down the phone. I looked out the window and brewed tea, I so faith in him, and he, probably, faiths in me, someone still faiths in us ...

It began to get dark and a silent night slowly came. My tea became cold and I set it again. We are quickly getting used to all bad and avoiding all good. We are thinking about one, and doing just another.

We all are alone here, it unites us. Everyone is bad, and everyone tries to make worse for others. We are always waiting for help and refusing, if suddenly getting it, we are keeping silent, when it is necessary to speak, and saying a lot, when it is more appropriate to remain silent. Time streams independently of us. Nothing depends on us, but we depend on everything - on the authorities, on the weather, on our own thoughts. We have to do a lot of stupidities for becoming even a little bit smarter.

A car drove past outside the window, having illuminated the space of the room with the shine of the headlights, we also are here only one flash in the bosom of history, a moment only, we will not improve anything and will not improve ourselves. We do not like any changes, especially for the better. Therefore, we are not changing ourselves. Even without having anything, we are afraid to lose it. That's why still are losing.

We go to nowhere, justifying it with goals and motives. We are waiting for tomorrow, which will be the same as yesterday, and surprising with the latter, when it comes. We think, that it's better not to think, and promise not to make promises. We say goodbye and count the days before the meeting and meet again for to say goodbye.

The wind is howling in the chimney and wobbling the wires. Only its sound interrupts the stupor. We so rarely began smiling, smiles turned into smirks, ridicules. Their sincerity, their admiration and carelessness were lost. We forgot, why we are here.

The rain started. It left traces on the window and soaked the earth. The road became looking like a small river. We write our own destiny ourselves, but afterwards we refuse to read it and hide it from others. It's easier for us to say, that everything is good, than to understand, what is wrong.

The sky became lighter, and the stars began to melt. The silence is thinning, the morning is filling with fog. Everything is simple, but sometimes there is so hard to understand it. Sometimes we do not know, what we want, sometimes are afraid to admit in it.

It was already morning - time to go somewhere, I must remember only, where this time. Again no one will call. Or someone will mistake the number and still will call. We began to fear each other, what to say about understanding. We do not understand even ourselves.

I got ready and left. The city was unusually friendly and quiet.

Maybe he was calling, but I was not at home. Or maybe he just had no time. Or simply did not want to call. Never mind.

I have waited for the bus and drove off. They say, that phones are aimless ... And I really was wanting to refuse from using it.

He will call back ... The main thing is to be at home such time. Eh! And I already was not waiting ...