Mitch hated crowds.  He avoided them whenever and wherever possible.  When avoidance wasn't an option he'd invariably search for a place that allowed even the smallest breathing space.  Often that tiny bit of room was nothing more than a wall or a window; but, finding that nook, that cranny, kept him from going crazy.

     He wasn't claustrophobic, he didn't suffer from any phobia's as far as he knew; he just couldn't stand to be smushed between a group of people - pushed and shoved with no way out.  Occasionally, he'd find himself in such a situation.  These days it was damned near impossible to completely avoid a crowd, but when necessary, he'd "go somewhere" in his mind and give his body free reign to find a way out of the heaving mass.  He "went" places in his mind quite well, but he couldn't do it for long periods of time...just enough to get out of the situation...a minute, two perhaps, five at the absolute limit.

     As long as he had a nook, a cranny, a bit of space that was unpopulated, he was generally okay.

     Mitch also had a thing about technology.  He didn't hate it like he did crowds.  In fact, he found it useful - to a degree.  Cell phones for example.  He thought cell phones the greatest invention since sliced bread until everyone had one.  He felt they were essential when travelling and your car broke down, or you were late for an important meeting and you needed to call the office and tell them the problem, or you needed to call your wife for something important.

     What eventually irked him to no end and essentially brought his phone usage to a near halt, was a culmination of watching everyone on the sidewalk with a phone to their ear, hearing unwanted conversations, disturbances in a movie or restaurant, using the phone while driving or seeing one of those...blue teeth things...stuck in someone's ear while that person talked and gesticulated, apparently to thin air.  He'd come to the conclusion that cell phones were rude, technically far above his ability to properly operate and socially unacceptable.

     Still he carried one for emergencies.

     Mitch found himself in a crowd again but he had also found himself with a nook, a cranny of solitude in the wall on his left.  Ahead, to the right and behind him, people were scrunched together.  They were coughing, swaying back and forth, rubbing shoulders.  If not for the wall on his left he'd be near panicking by now.

     Even with the wall supporting him, he'd drifted off into another world in his mind before being rudely brought out of his trance-like dream.  He knew, immediately, the cause of the disturbance and without so much as a question to one of his several neighbors, he leaned down and pulled his cell phone from his briefcase.

     He figured now would be one of those times that he should use the cell.

     He fumbled with it, trying to fit his large fingertip onto just one of the keys.  Another thing about cell phones is that the more technologically advanced they became, the smaller the buttons became, too.

     Finally, he had the number punched in and held the phone to his left ear, away from the rest of the crowd.  It rang several times before he heard the message, her voice, "I'm sorry I missed you.  Please leave your name and number and I'll call you back."  There was a slight pause and then, "Or maybe not."  He knew the recording but he listened to it all the way through, anyway.  He loved the sound of her voice.

     His neighbor on the right bumped into him.  Slammed into him actually, and caused him to drop the phone when it and his head banged off the wall to his left.  He ignored the neighbor who was already leaning back the other way.  He didn't hear the guy apologize and didn't care, anyway. 

     He reached his arm down, moving forward and back, left and right, trying to find the phone.  His place in the crowd was too tight to allow him to bend over completely or to bend down.  It seemed like forever, but was only a few seconds before he located the fallen device and snatched it back and up before his face.  With no hesitation, he punched in another number.

     This was his home phone.  It rang and rang.  She seldom answered the home phone.  It was mobile...within the house...with a base station upstairs in the office.  The batteries were old and never held a charge for very long, so they generally left it sitting in the charger/base.  Since that was upstairs and the family spent most of their time downstairs, it was seldom answered.  They used it almost exclusively as an answering machine and to return calls.

     The answering machine clicked on and once again he listened to her voice.  The message was essentially the same...."sorry we missed you, leave a name and number, we'll call back...." and then the tone that indicated you could leave a message.

     Unable to get her on the phone and running out of time, he decided to leave a message.

     "Schatzie, I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.  I wanted you to know how much you've meant to me all these years.  You know, I just...wanted to thank you for a wonderful life."

     He paused as tears leaked out the corners of his eyes.  "Please tell the kids how very proud of them I am and...."

     She ran up the stairs as soon as she heard his voice on the machine.  Slightly out of breath and panicking because it was so unusual for him to call she snatched the phone out of the charger just in time to hear....

     "Ich liebe dich, Schatzie...I'll wait for you on the other....."

     The next she heard was an earsplitting screech and a thunderous explosion.