A Capricious Guitar Solo

The other girl appeared only in the way you treated me, as if you had rehearsed everything but not followed through with the action. To make you feel better I described your laugh as melodic: Almost like a soft refrain. I gave you a track to get on, whereupon you began laughing loudly and falteringly, more like a capricious guitar solo, though I never said that. I had almost forgotten that episode, but then you rang a few weeks ago. So, you’ve got the same number as in 1997? you began. I was waiting for you, I said. Is that true? you replied eagerly. Of course not, I said.