After Algernon buzzed his brother into the apartment building, he sat down at his living room table and resumed cleaning his cello. He loosened the strings and cleaned the fingerboard, wiping it down until it gleamed. As he began re-tuning the pegs, his thoughts drifted to the conversation he’d had just thirty minutes ago with his mother.
“So he’s out of the house?” he’d asked, as he walked down Seventh Street to his apartment.
“ Of course he is. I couldn’t stand looking at him for another minute. He’s gone," she said.
“Gone? What do you mean ‘gone?’ Where’s he staying?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really care.”
“Jesus.” He thought she sounded tired, her voice disturbingly monotonous. Algernon debated whether to ask. After a few seconds of silence, his curiosity took the lead.
“Do you know who, y’know, SHE was?”
At that moment a bus decided to rumble by, and he couldn’t hear her response.
“Ma? I can’t hear.” It rolled away. “Ma?” He couldn’t hear anything but breathing. “Mom?” Was she crying?
“I’m here Al,” she whispered, and he stopped walking. “I need to go.”
“Oh.”
“But please, stop by if you can.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course! I’ll come by tomorrow after five.” He started walking slowly, his apartment in sight. “I love you mom.”
“Love you too, sweetie.”
He hung up and arrived at the gate, still gazing at his phone. He considered calling his father, checking in, but what would he say? What could he say? Where should his loyalties lie—
At that moment his brother came through the door, and Algernon jumped.
“Sup Al. Beautiful day, huh?” Thomas smiled and headed for the refrigerator.
“Yup.” Algernon looked down. His tuning was done. He listened as his little brother sifted around the fridge.
“You talk to mom or dad today?” Thomas emerged with a can of Pepsi.
Algernon began packing up his cello. “No,” he replied.

Just a piece of flash fiction.