The Phone Call…

“I know you’re traveling, but you deserve to know.” A deep pause held the defying silence. “We’re taking dad to the hospital.”

The call ended shortly after. The barrage of unanswered questions already felt like hours.

He paced the room attempting to focus as he spoke, “I’m in Hong Kong, it’s 13-hours to London…” He stumbled over the small coffee table, the ones meant to be convenient and helpful. 

He emptied his laptop bag over the hard-wood executive table. He plugged in his complimentary Internet. He attempted find the time on his diamond studed Swiss watch. Super heated tears and nervous sweat had already fogged his designer glasses. He reached out for a tissue and found that it had abandoned its post. Off on the floor next to the now unhelpful coffee table. His Egyptian cotton sleeve was a suitable equivalent.

The earliest flight was 6-hours from now, overbooked, full to capacity. Waiting-list.

He slumped back his chair, still hazy from the passing time. None of his many accomplishments could help him. None of his wealth could solve this problem. He felt like he had sat there for days.

His phone rang again.

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