Chapter 5: The first call after years

We started talking again.

At first, it was careful—like two people walking around memories they were not sure were safe to touch.

“How have you been?” “What are you doing now?” “Do you still remember the village?”

Small questions.

But behind every word was something unspoken.

Recognition.

We were no longer children in a village.

We were strangers trying to remember how familiarity felt.

Then came the call.

I didn’t expect it to last long, but it did.

His voice had changed slightly, deeper now, more grounded. But when he laughed, there was still something in it that pulled me back to those dusty village afternoons.

We talked for hours without noticing the time.

And for a moment, it felt like nothing had been lost.

Like time had only paused.

But when the call ended, reality returned.

The silence after it felt heavier than before.

And I found myself waiting again.

This time not for a memory—

But for a person who was finally real again.