Svetlana

by Tyler Bigney

I had just laid my head down
when the phone rang.
It rang three times
before I picked it up.
I had a feeling
it was my daughter, and between
silently cursing the time difference
between Nova Scotia
and Moscow,
and clearing the sleep from my throat,
I said hello.

She was calling to ask
when she would see me again.
If she would see me again.

I could hear her mother in the background.

"Tell him that your voice
will haunt his dreams forever."

I drew a deep breath and waited for it.

I thought about riding horses
with my father
through the fields
behind my grandmother's house,
and stopping by the river
where he taught me
how to drink the water
by cupping my hands together.

Memories I would never have
with my daughter.

"Dad," she said. "When will I see you?"

"Soon," I answered. "You'll see me soon."

And like that,
she was gone and I was left
with dial tone
and a night full of sleep
to dream
that my daughter was in my arms
and that her mother and I
were in love.