Asad

Ours just thinned out, like a track running into the desert. A wedding I missed, a call I meant to return, your new city, my new job, and then one day I realised I didn't know your children's names. There was no last argument to regret. That is almost worse: I can't apologise for anything, so I can't mend anything. I only want you to know that when something funny happens, my first thought is still to tell you, and my second is to remember I can't. I'm ringing this week. Pick up, you old fool.