a call in the evening

darkness settled. she left the laptop on and toured the house to draw the curtains.
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her face had more wrinkles now, in the evening, than it did in the morning. or was it the other way around? she sighed and left the bathroom. today she wrote more characters than usual. she was content with the progress.
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mindlessly laying the kitchen table for dinner, she wondered about the way she needed to incorporate the words of the interwieved women into the body of the writing. she lifted the napkin holder and pulled out four. she used to hum songs just to amuse herself, but not today. her hands were weary, her eyelids heavy. four plates, there.
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that was when the phone rang. it reminded her of work, so she made a few hesitant steps forward. her daughter passed it to her hands. unknown caller. she moved to the office and pushed the receiver button: 'hi, you have reached Rebecca Hahn.' - her voice sounded plain. 'hi, Becca.'
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her heart skipped a beat. it's been almost two years. 'we have just read one of your articles. we were surfing the net for keeping chicken and yours was the second or third best one on the subject.' you...we, stress on the 'we', oh, we 'oh, you did, huh, really, thanks.' 'so, we have been pondering about keeping some of our own, you know and thought that we should seek you for advice' and you never called. 'uhm, why, of course, yes?' a few minutes later the call ended and she collapsed onto a chair.
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time passed on. changing excited tips, her kids were busy chasing virtual enemies. the front door opened. her husband arrived. 'hi, how was your day?' - he addressed his words towards the office. she leaned against the door. 'uhm, i almost finished the article on pruning.' her husband stepped forward and caressed her hair. 'you look tired, dear.' 'i am. i worked a lot.' - she answered and headed for the kitchen.
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- photo credits go to http://debosmita.files.wordpress.com