Wrong Number, Right Voice

He’s trying to sign up for a creative writing class.One wrong digit. One small mistake.

Your phone rings.

You don’t answer it at first.Then a voicemail comes through.

It’s polite.Warm.Thoughtful.And the second you hear it, your stomach drops—because you know that voice.

You’ve heard it late at night.Through headphones.Hundreds of times.

You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.

You play it again.Then again.

By the third time, your heart is racing... It can’t be him. There’s no way.

You shouldn’t call back

…But you do.

When he answers, he’s still in “professional mode,” assuming you’re the writing studio. Calm. Casual. Distracted.

Until he hears your breathing.The hesitation in your voice.The way you pause—like this isn’t the first time you’ve listened to him.

He slows down.

Listens closer.

Because… he’s not so sure you’re a stranger after all.