two ladies, having a chat as
the grandfather clock down the hallway strikes one.
each in their respective beds, looking at the star-studded twilight sky
and twiddling with the phone cords.
suddenly they revert to adolescence and start giggling
of the air-filled plots they thought up before.
some of them actually withheld embarrassment of either author,
proving anything is possible.
for a moment, one keeps silent
finally bursting.
she saw a shooting star fly across the dark blanket of clouds!
in haste, the other reminds her to make a wish.
eyelids shut and hands clasp.
before anyone says a word, the gong speaks six times.
a goodbye and a dead tone sets the record straight.
