Kelvin shot up from his sleeping position. It felt like he had been asleep for long, but the afternoon sun was glaring through the window. In his shock, Kelvin wondered if any time had gone by since he sat down. He remembered looking to see his lifeless body on the couch, he looked again and it wasn’t there. He touched and patted himself, checked his t-shirt, the stains were there. Where was the man?
A cold sweat broke, had he just dreamt of his death?
Disillusioned , the shrill ring of his phone announced a call. He looked at it and it read “Dad”.
Kelvin hadn’t spoken to his father at all. His mother told him that he had left and had another family. He grew up without knowing or having any form of relationship with his father. This call bothered him because he couldn’t remember saving the number in his phone.
The third ring, usually Kelvin would have picked by now… his line of business needed him to pick up his phone in less than three rings so that he could keep his customers happy. He couldn’t remember where the number came from, or how did his dad get his number? He got up and paced his room over the next two rings of the phone. His arm was itching.
The phone stopped ringing. The itching grew worse… he looked at his arm and there was the needle from his dream. He froze. This was eerily too vivid a memory or déjà vu, was it really a dream? He glanced at the couch fearing he would see his body, it wasn’t there.
The phone rang again, “Dad” it read.
He picked. “Hello?”
……. [to be continued]