By Jennifer Rutherford Date: 8 April 1998
The phone, again I don't get up though it sounds so close and similiar to mine, it is probably hers I count with slowness: one: I hope it is picked up soon, ending my suspense and two: I pause in my reading watching the phone, heart starts thudding third: heart again, breath stops, one more and it's mine and it could be you I'm still again- there is no fourth I am relieved and disappointed.