❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
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Cleo liked to imagine her life with a soundtrack.
Yet, as she sat there that day, she couldn't quite imagine something sad enough.
In her head she could almost hear the woeful, slow swipes of a violin. Or the piano keys in a minor key that always seemed to evoke emotion from her. Or the slight scuff of a guitar string on a major chord. Or the slight crack in a vocalist's shining solo piece.
Yet, she still couldn't quite seem to find the notes downcast enough to fit the requirements of the dire situation at hand.
