She pronounces his name in a way that he has never heard it pronounced before. Sometimes, teasing, with the slightest lift to the single syllable. Somehow it conveys several hundred syllables all at once, words unspoken, thoughts carefully not formed.
He first notices this on a Friday as she is saying good-bye. The possibilities roll off her tongue as her words stretch out behind her.
She doesn't pronounce anyone else's name with the same artful sweep. He tests his theory, nothing special about Phylis, or extraordinary about Oscar or Michael. He smiles spitefully, as he eavesdrops, her voice tired and colorless.
She smiles, noticing, the phone still pressed against her ear. Roy's single syllable is not as perfect as his own.
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© 2006-2023 More Than That | Skin created by Kali