Nyla only knocked on the door once, attention already drifting away like a tendril of smoke with the breeze, eyes roaming up and searching for the sun to give them blotches. They had a pale blue Furby tucked beneath their arm like a basketball with one of it’s eyes shut. No shoes on. A large hole in one of their socks. A backpack strapped to their shoulders that looked more like a fainted, strung up teddy bear. By the time the door opened, they still hadn’t dawned back to earth. It took a long pause before they said anything at all. “Can, um… Can I use your, like… What’s it…” Silent again. Attempting to fish a letter from the alphabet soup that made their brain. “Aw, shit. What’s… it called?” Finally, their eyes found the other’s face, though despite staring right at them, they seemed to be looking at something else, some world which only they could access where angels had ten heads and cats told bedtime stories. There was a quiver of a smile on their lips but it wasn’t quite there, a little like the dial tone on a disconnected – oh. “Telephone. Think it’s… That’s right, isn’t it? I think… yeah, somethin’ like that. Can I use yours?”
Val hadn’t expected anyone to really knock on his door today. His mother was gone for a while, he had no friends coming over and he was meant to be pretending like he was relaxing on his off day. Opening the door, he saw a girl and raised an eyebrow at the question. He would have tried to guess what she wasted, but he didn’t think he would have a good answer. When she finally said telephone, he stepped aside and let her into the apartment. “Yeah, um, sure. Come in.” He told her, moving to shut the door behind her once she was in his apartment.
“Are you alright?” He asked her, a little concerned with how she looked and the way she was acting. “Here, all I have is a cellphone.” Val took it out of his pocket and handed it to her.
