The call I let ring out.

My grandmother used to ring me every Sunday at noon without fail. If I missed it, she'd try again at half past. I always meant to pick up. I always thought, I'll call her back later when I'm less busy, less tired, less distracted. One Sunday the phone rang and I watched it vibrate on the table while I finished what I was doing. I never rang back. The next call about her came from my mother three days later. I still hear that unanswered ringing sometimes, usually when it's quiet and I'm alone. It sounds exactly like the chance I thought I'd always have again.