By: Annapurani Vaidyanathan

12 turns should do it, I decide,
as I fiddle with the time-turner in my hand.
I wonder if the speed might triple, were you in the same continent as me.
Because, 365 days ago, before you chose to fly 7584 miles away, we were only 12 elephant steps apart. When just the idea of living in the same city as you, was abundant for my heart. Then dawn struck. You grew wings and I let the words I’ve always wanted to say, stay firm in my throat.

The night sky sparkles and I pause for a moment. I stop tracing your face with my toes on the sand-smeared tiles in my terrace and toss the time-turner into the abyss. I fish my phone out of my pocket and punch in the numbers I’ve unceasingly dialled and erased. Day in and day out. Only this time around, I let the ring go through.

Long-distance calling should be made cheaper.