Page 53 of Jocelyn
A long silence filled the line. I checked to make sure we hadn’t gotten disconnected, but the clock still ticked, recording how long we’d been speaking.
Static rasped in my ear like he’d moved the mouthpiece against another object. “Sorry. I know this is where I’m supposed to say something inspiring or commiserative or, you know, anything would probably be good, but… I don’t know what I should say. I…I wish I had the right words for you just now.”
“It’s okay.” I honestly wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear anyway. That I’d been smart to choose something tangible instead of living in a world of abstracts where the probability of success was almost nonexistent? Because that’s what I’d been telling myself for years.
But why did the smart thing all of a sudden feel like the cowardly thing?
I closed the sketchbook. “I should probably get breakfast started, and I know you have a busy day ahead of you, too.”
“Okay. I’ll let you go, just…”
“Yeah?”
“Just don’t give up on your dreams all together, okay? That’s…that’s all I wanted to say.”
22
Malachi
5:59 pm
Jocelyn:
Ok. I have another question.
Malachi:
So, we’re doing that then?
Jocelyn:
Haha. I guess so.
Malachi:
Sounds good.
What’s your question?
Jocelyn:
Why don’t you have
chickens on the ranch?
Malachi:
Out of everything, that’s
what you want to know?
Jocelyn:
I thought every farm
had chickens!
Malachi:
