"This is the hero! Alfred F. Jones!" You could hear your laughter in the background of his voicemail recording, taped years ago. "Leave me a message because I'm too busy saving people right now. Swishpow!"
His eerie tone frightened you, causing you to shiver and shift in your position on the sofa. You inspect the house one last time before letting go of the memories that once stored clear as pure water.
You decided to leave a message for him, hoping he would hear.
"Alfred, I am moving next week. Your motorcycle is still in my house. You always loved her, treated her like your wife and never did you ever leave it with anyone. When we broke up, you left it with me. I thought that you would come back and take it because it meant so much to you. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. I tried to recuperate the relationship with you, but you were nowhere to be found. Just come before Monday to take it back. The landlord is coming to take the keys on Friday. Everything that I did to you, everything that I thought about you were incorrect. I just wanted you to know that I have not stopped loving-"
The phone line made a noise as it spoke, almost as if it was voicing its final words. "Your message was three minutes long, exceeding our recording limit. If you would like to record more messages to send to the user, please try at a later time. Thank you for using HetaMobile. We appreciate your business. Good-bye."
You wanted to finish, but was afraid to call him back.
You only whispered into the air, finishing your recording to Alfred; speaking to nobody, knowing that he won't hear the last bit of your words.
But that was okay.
And the last bits shattered your already broken heart into ten pieces more.