Stir Fry

I was mute. Responding to the silence in-between the dial tone. A new proposal of a new unlimited data plan. I don't know how many gigs equate to the amount of anticipation. Sitting in silence. Phone pressed against my ear waiting to the sound of your voice. The smell of stair-fry coming from an oval pan. The smell of darkened beef and steamed vegetables sizzling by a pot of rice. Boiling over in anticipation