#lethaliity

Click, click-click, click.      He kept on click-clicking the power button on his cell phone, uselessly, hopelessly. It was dead. It was a crying shame he'd lost his cell phone charger, or else just misplaced it. Maybe it was stolen, though he was usually more careful about his possessions. At any rate, he'd be home rather late today; the idea made his stomach clench.      Five o'clock PM was never really a set time, not officially. They didn't agree in words to meet at the same time every day. It just happened to work that way for the past few weeks, and it was starting to become a comfort if not habit.      Twenty-two minutes later than he would've liked, Ted took the stairs to his apartment two at a time and jingled his key in the lock until his door opened graciously. He wasn't ever usually so antsy to get home, but these days it was different. These days he had something to look forward to.       Before even slipping out of his jacket or shoes, Ted dropped himself onto the mattress that lay on his floor and opened up the lid of his laptop, waiting for the screen to illuminate. His fingers drummed lightly against the keyboard, impatient to type his first message.      Sorry i'm late,      He managed to punch in quickly into the white dialogue box. Waiting for a response, he rummaged around for his phone charger.