I was only eight when the world ended. When the plague swept its way across the world and humanity went out with nothing but a whimper. I was only eight when I saw my first dead body, my parents, laying like husks on the living room floor. They went quickly, and I have seen many more since. Since then, in the twenty years between, the only company I've managed to keep was in the many voices on the other sides of phonecalls.

I would dial a new number, a made up combination, and wait.

The voices on the phones never answered. The other line always just rang and rang as I waited until the voicemail answered and I felt almost satisfied. Sometimes, I'd get a call myself, and in the first few years after the event it would excite me, but it was always just spam. An array of robotic voices that could never hope to mimic a real human.

Carnival Cruise has an offer for you!, In the beginning I'd listen to the robotic voices pitch. Sometimes even talk with it in one sided conversation.

But one day when I called a voice on the other line answered, not a robot, but a real human. I was looking up New York area codes at the time in the yellow pages. Going through them in a pattern in numerical order as not to miss any. I was always sure to get them all.

In the twenty years since the plague I had not seen so much as a single glimpse of another person, so when that voice answered:

"Hello? Hello.... is that breathing? Oh my god it is! He-" I hung up, unsure of what to do. My breath's grew short and fast. I slumped back against the concrete wall of the parking garage and stared to the sun above. No way it had been real. A trick of the mind, I was too hot. Dehydrated surely. I reached for my jug and put it to my lips, gulping down water in effort to balance my brain again. But then my phone rang, the number on the screen the same I'd just called. A callback. I had only dreamed of such a thing.

With hesitancy I answered, and a woman's voice rattled off the moment I did. "Hello? You're real right?! A real person!" Her voice was upbeat, full of both energy and excitement. I was unsure I could match it.

"I uhm...yes. I am a human, yes."

"What?! I thought I was it! God it's been... it's been nineteen years since I've talked with anyone, anything that's real. I used to talk with Flora, but she passed, and then it was just me..."

I thought back to the books I'd read. Books like: "Warrens Conversational Tips" and "Social Interactions for Dummies".The many conversations I'd practiced with myself in the mirror as a kid in case the day ever came where I needed to talk again.

When confronted with the passing of a loved one, simply say: my condolences.

"My condolences." the two words came out awkward and clunky rather than comforting. "Where are you? Who are you?"

"Oh it's ok, she was just a ficus, but I loved her so. I'm still unsure of what got her. Rot root maybe, but you're real!"

I took a deep breath and asked again, this time realizing more of what the answer to her question would mean. "Where are you?"

A long silence that felt like an eternity followed. I just listened to her breathe as we sat, awaiting an answer that would surely determine if we both stayed lonely or not. New York, New York, New York. I prayed in my head.

"You're an American aren't you...I could tell by how you spoke. My father was an American man. He talked just like you. With that long draw and lengthy words."

This time my voice was more stern when I asked, no longer asking but commanding an answer. "Where are you!"

"New Zealand... I'm in New Zealand." she admitted. "I'm guessing you're not."

She was right. I was an entire world away, in Kansas. I tried to stay central in the hope that if someone answered, someday, I could go to them. I looked down to the cover of my phone book, ripped at the cover. New- not New York numbers, but it was New Zealand I'd been calling.

"I'll be there. Just give me a few weeks. I'll come."

"What, how? And why, we just met?"

"No we didn't. All we've done is just spoken on the phone. I have a book somewhere about planes, about boats too. I'll find a way,-"

"Evelyn" she finished my words. "I'm Evelyn. In Wellington, the small island. At the bottom. At least, in case you dont make it, will you promise to call again?"

"Again? I wasn't going to hang up." I thought back to the books, to the chapter titled Topics of Conversation: How to get started

"So Evelyn, how are you today?"