Three Brief Conversations.

1. Dial Tone
___The phone sprung to life on the coffee table, buzzing across its surface angrily like a mortally wounded bee. He startled at the sound, then glanced at the caller ID. It was Laura. Wondering why she was calling this late, he flipped the phone open.
___"Laura?" His voice was urgent, concerned. That didn't make it easier for her.
___"You were right," she said, tones hushed and sorrowful.
___"What's going on?" There was now a cold pit of ice in his stomach, because he could only think of one thing she could have been referring to.
___"I'm calling to say goodbye," she continued, ignoring his question as though it was never spoken.
___"You're scaring me," he said, and the high edge to his voice confirmed it.
___"Come tomorrow, I'll either be dead, or a murderer." She paused, then laughed sardonically. "Though some part of me thinks you'll get over the former more quickly."
___"Laura, calm down - tell me what happened. Is it Julie?"
___"I know you hate it when I remind you but, I love you, Alan." Her voice should have been more emotional to accompany those words, but they were flat and hollow. This more than anything frightened him.
___"Laura, I..."
___"Don't," she said sharply, cutting him off. "Your arguments won't dissuade me, and if you even dare try at reciprocity, I'll see right through it. Good bye, Alan."
___The receiver went dead, and it felt like an omen.

2. Vegans
___She worried the lid of the bottle, wincing as a sharp burning shot up her hand to her shoulder and then back down again, like the nerves were playing catch with her pain. It wasn't even one of those confounding child-proof lids, just a normal twist-off; how humiliating. As she tried to force her injured arm to perform, she became aware that a shadow had fallen over her. Looking up with apparent agitation, she pursed her lips in the beginning of an irate what, then stopped.
___Standing over her was one of the most offensively attractive women she'd ever seen. Her luxurious black hair fell forward as she looked down, an amused smile dancing more in her almond-shaped sepia eyes than on her dark, thin lips. She held out one mocha-brown hand, long elegant fingers splayed. Her palms looked curiously rough considering the manicured perfection of her nails, which were long but only tastefully so.
___"May I?" the woman asked, her voice warm and lyrical.
___Amanda nodded distantly, too stricken to argue. The woman twisted the lid off with ease, giving a funny little smile when she saw the label and small, pink pills that had been obscured by the dark glass. Amanda managed a meek "thank you."
___"B12?" the beautiful stranger asked, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "Are you a vegan?"
___Amanda snorted, gesturing to her muscular, blocky body - the kind of body that played sports that lead to shoulder injuries. She gave the stranger a very arrogant look.
___"Do I look like one?"
___Her smile spread wider, like she was enjoying some secret joke at the other woman's expense.
___"I don't know... do I?" She reached into the bottle, withdrawing one tablet and trapping it between the perfect white teeth of her grin with a wink before closing her lips and sauntering away.

3. Chivalry's Not Dead
___Margaret saw the door before he did, his attention focused too intensely on his watch as they exited the restaurant. He'd barely been able to tolerate sitting through an hour's dinner, too concerned with getting back home before the game started. A devious grin sprung across her face, forcing the frown lines hewn in the corners of her aging visage to reconfigure. Striding ahead, she pulled the door open, bowing at the waist and gesturing her husband through with a great sweep of her knobby, arthritic hand.
___"After you, Darling!" she trilled.
___He looked up from his watch with a scowl, ears burning red as he crossed the threshold peevishly following a moment's hesitation.
___"See that?" She proclaimed teasingly. "Chivalry's not dead yet."
___Once outside the door, he grabbed her elbow firmly, pulling her close with his lip curling in an angry little growl.
___"Would you stop castrating me in public?" he hissed, annoyed, then stormed ahead.
___There was the hint of laughter in her old eyes.