For whom the phone calls

I hate phones. Back in the old Soviet Union, I was one of the lucky few that didn't have a phone. Of course I didn't feel so lucky then, because it severely impaired my social life, but now I think that was not such a bad situation.

All the bad news always comes to you by phone. Never a good news. A baby announcement or a wedding invitation will come in the mail. A birthday invitation will be delivered by Evite. A friend will tell you face to face about his job promotion. But phone calls are meant to bring bad news.

And they do. A phone call several days ago brought me the news that a dear friend's mother passed away. I knew this lady well. A young look, a warm hug, a soft voice, a cheerful smile do not go with the word "death", so much so that trying to put them together sounds almost grotesque.

But this is a leap year - what do I expect? I am looking at my phone biting my lip and waiting superstitiously for the bad news to arrive whenever the phone rings, and hoping that if I only don't answer the call the bad things will never happen.