Fiction
[TRANSCRIPT] [click, static] Fuck you, Harry. You absolute goddamn sneak. I threw everything from the old car into the new pretty haphazardly, and I decided to really organize it today, take stuff out of my bags, switch out my cold weather clothes for warm weather ones and I guess I haven’t dug into all the pockets yet, because I found… You knit me goddamn mittens, didn’t you? Snuck them into my bag before I left like some kind of… I packed this bag myself, it was empty when I did, so I know these aren’t left over from…I mean, even if I hadn’t packed it myself, what would they be left over from? A trip we never took? And the mittens, they’re blue, which you know is my favorite color you goddamn— [click, static] Of course I find these when I’m in Southern California. When I need them the least. There’s something…there’s something in you hiding a fucking handcrafted thing that took you time, you hiding it for me to find, me only finding it when I no longer need it. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. But I’m too…I’m too taken off guard to try and figure out what the hell it means. [click, static]