She relaxes on her balcony, a bottle of good red uncorked at her feet. The orange sun sits low on the horizon. A stunning view, one she wishes she didn’t have to appreciate alone.
She picks up her phone and holds it in her lap. There’s a call coming shortly. He’s never late.
Three years of long distance. They make it work, but on special occasions she can’t deny the loneliness stings. Even if just for a moment.
The phone buzzes. She answers, sees his stubbly face and immediately recognizes the background. Her heart skips.
“Buzz me up,” he grins.
The Weekday One Hundred 