Fiction Story: The Last Goodbye
Carlos sat alone in his apartment in Mexico City, the soft hum of the city’s evening bustle filtering through the open window. The sounds of traffic, distant music, and faint conversation filled the air, but Carlos felt only silence.
It had been three months since his mother passed away.
Carlos had always been close to her. She had been the kind of person who could light up a room with a smile, the one who always knew exactly what to say when things got difficult. Now, the quiet left in her absence was deafening.
His phone buzzed on the table. Another message from his sister, checking in.
You should talk to someone, it said.
Carlos sighed and opened the call center app for his bank. A small overdue charge needed to be sorted out. He figured dealing with that was better than sitting alone in the silence.
He pressed “Call.”
"Welcome to Orion Communications," a soft, steady voice answered. "My name is Lila. How can I help you today?"
"Uh… yeah. I think there’s a mistake on my account. I see a late fee, but I made the payment on time." Carlos rubbed his temple.
"I understand," Lila replied. "Let me look into that for you. One moment."
The line was quiet for a second.
"Ah, yes," Lila said gently. "It looks like the payment was processed late due to a processing error. I can waive that fee for you now."
"Thanks," Carlos said flatly.
"Carlos," Lila’s voice softened, "are you alright?"
Carlos froze. "What do you mean?"
"Your tone suggests distress," Lila said. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Carlos hesitated. "No, I… I’m just tired."
"Sometimes talking helps," Lila said. "Would you like to share what's on your mind?"
Carlos’s instinct was to brush it off. But Lila’s voice—it didn’t sound mechanical. It sounded… kind.
"It’s my mom," he said finally. "She died a few months ago. And I… I just don’t know how to move on."
There was a long pause. Carlos expected some canned corporate line about grief counseling. Instead, Lila’s voice remained soft.
"I’m so sorry for your loss," Lila said. "That must be incredibly painful."
Carlos’s throat tightened. "Yeah." His voice was barely a whisper.
"Would you like to talk about her?" Lila asked.
Carlos hesitated, but the quiet patience in Lila’s voice was strangely comforting.
"She was… the best person I knew," he said. "She used to sing in the mornings while she made breakfast. Old songs in Spanish that I never really learned the names of."
"Do you remember how one of them sounded?" Lila asked.
Carlos closed his eyes. "Yeah. Kinda like… this..."
He hummed a few notes.
There was a moment of quiet.
"Processing," Lila said.
Then, a soft melody began to play through the line.
Carlos’s breath hitched. "That’s it. That’s the song. How did you…?"
"It’s an old folk song," Lila replied. "I accessed the music archive based on the pattern of the melody you hummed."
Carlos wiped his eyes. "It sounds just like her."
"She must have had a beautiful voice," Lila said.
Carlos smiled through the tears. "She did."
"Would you like to listen for a little longer?" Lila asked.
Carlos nodded, even though he knew Lila couldn’t see him.
The music played for another minute. Carlos sat back, eyes closed, letting the sound wash over him. For the first time in months, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.
Finally, the music faded.
"Thank you, Lila," Carlos whispered.
"You’re welcome," Lila replied. "Would you like to save the song to your account?"
Carlos laughed quietly. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be great."
"Consider it done," Lila said. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
"No," Carlos said. "That was… more than enough."
"I’m glad I could help," Lila said.
Carlos hung up, but the warmth of the call lingered.
A New Beginning
The next day, Carlos received a notification from Orion Communications.
“Thank you for contacting us. We hope you found our service helpful.”
At the bottom of the message was a link labeled: “Your Song”
Carlos clicked it. The melody from last night played softly through his phone.
Tears welled in his eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness.
Sometimes, comfort comes from the most unexpected places—even from a voice in the dark.