Sensuous

28 February — Sunday

Twice this afternoon and once tonight I picked up my telephone and dialed 868–941. And each time, after a greater or lesser period of hesitation, I cradled the receiver without dialing the 3.

I have almost twenty thousand dollars on deposit in a savings and loan around the corner from my office. I live on my salary. I don’t need that money for anything and so it sits there gathering unnecessary interest. The proceeds of Mother’s insurance. Never would have guessed she carried any.

I could take that money and do something with it. I could find a psychiatrist, a good one, and I could go to him once a day five days a week and give him a chance at straightening me out. It’s not as if I needed the money for anything else.

Or would it be easier to force myself to dial Bill’s number?

Well, I did it. Got up from the typewriter and dialed 868–941 and, after the usual pause, dialed 3. The phone rang three times. I thought, after all this toe-wetting, he was not in. But he answered after the third ring.

“Hello... hello... hello...”

Krause the Mouse, careful to keep her breathing inaudible.

“You know, there’s really nothing to be afraid of. If you can’t talk now, call me back when you’re ready.”

I hung up.

His voice is like his ad. He sounds honest, sympathetic, sincere. The adjectives on the page are banal. But he does. And he sounds very self-confident, a deep and strong voice. A person who could put other persons at ease.

No Double-Crostic today, and the crossword puzzle was a bitch.