Reception

Valentina Cano

She thought the phone
would ring like a toy one,
in simple, plastic tones,
a string of happy notes
that held no bitter words
tucked into its pearly orbs.
She imagined gliding to it,
teeth glinting in a smile
she'd reserved for such a moment,
one without a single crease of regret.
That's not what she got.
The ring had fangs of sound,
voice curled in its hollows
a screech that deafened.
The room and all its angles disappeared,
tumbling into a cordless oblivion.


About the Author

Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time she has either reading or writing. Her work has appeared in Exercise Bowler, and is forthcoming in the winter editions of Blinking Cursor, Theory Train, Magnolia's Press, Berg Gasse 19, H.O.D (A Handful of Dust), The Scarlet Sound, Perhaps I am Wrong about the World, and Lowestoft Chronicle. You can find her here: http://coldbloodedlives.blogspot.com