(Excerpted from another longer fictional piece, from within my repository)
“Hello”, that greeting from you sounded like a police officer’s usher. I would rag you immensely on this. How could you “love me”, and then greet me in this drab way? Your quirks were like Saturn’s multiple rings.
It must have been months, one fine day, you called and say “HeyLove”. It was your “hello” sounding like “heylove”. More than tender and warm, I found this amusing and, at later moments charming.
The way you would sometimes croon “haylow, heylove, heylowe” at a cadence. This would happen often when we could not hear each other well, or when you were trying to grab my attention.
Many years later, you confessed, you had were imitating Kurt Cobain from “Smells like Teen Spirit”.
In my car, Bluetooth is configured to auto answer the call. Its my roulette version of answering a blind call. Every single time, I wish, even today, that as soon as I answer, I hear a gruff voice saying “HeyLove”.
“Tell me, my Kurt, my love.”
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