Betrothed To Six Lovers
I could still feel the vibration.
On the second day, I talked to myself. Just muttering. “The fire needs another log.” “It’s getting dark earlier.” It was the only way to prove I still had a voice.
Sunday night, 9 PM. My hands were slick with sweat. I picked up the heavy satellite phone, pressed the button. It rang once.
A voice answered, male, neutral, devoid of any identifying quality. “Go ahead.”
“Cloud Cover,” I said, my tongue thick.
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