meta
Meta sat in front of her vanity, watching her little pager vibrate itself around in circles on the dingy glass top. She picked it up.She didn't want to look at its little numbered face. She looked at it. It was that mechanic guy again. She dropped it back on the table and resumed smoking her cigarette.
She didn't listen to any music, although she had a a few CD's and a little stereo. She just sat at her makeup table, smoking and waiting for something good to happen.
The TV was on, but she had the volume all the way down. Her cigarette tirelessly emitted a plume of smoke, streaming upward in a perfect line for about eighteen inches in the still air before breaking up into a wider plume.
Now it went even higher, as though gaining confidence. She exhaled, and the smoke scattered before her.
She looked at her pager. She spun it around on the glass with a finger.
She picked up the phone and began to dial.
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