The Missing Piece to the Puzzle Found and Lost Again

I am beginning to abhor his e-mail, and now the phone when the call is made in transit from one place to another – neither leading to me. His voice is often laboured from the walking and his attention is anything but undivided. This cheats me.

Once during an awkward call our voices, our breath, just lingered on the phone. He had called me at work which he knew limited me in my reactions, prevented me from being open and honest, prevented me from telling him to go fuck himself. He could feel my impatience; he began speaking rapidly to fill the void, to fill the silence, to suppress the frustration in me. He described where he was – I did not care – it was not here.

“I’m staring at a parking lot full of water” he said, which suggested to me that he must go now as he had arrived at his destination. I said nothing. After a brief pause, he attempted to fill the void again, he wanted to talk about anything, nothing - he just wanted to avoid the reality of this situation.

“There is a puzzle piece just floating around in this big puddle.”

“Ah ha!” I said “that is the missing piece to the puzzle.” in a mocking Sherlock Holmes kind of way.

“Ya?” he questioned, excited by my new tone.

“Ya.” I replied and instructed “Pick it up.”

“No. It is all grimy and grey.” He said.

“Hmmm." I am disappointed, "That is why it is always missing – when they find it, no one picks it up.”


  1. the last line gave me goosebumps.

  2. There are mysteries, puzzles and women that are hard to solve. Few men venture.

    It's not a problem being a puzzling mysterious woman, the problem is finding a daring intelligent man to figure such being out.

  3. This is amazing....makes me want to read more....I wish there was more...a book? I want the before and after.


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