Crank Call

NPR is having a 3 minute writing contest. In less than 600 words, you are supposed to write a story in as a message on an answering machine. Here is my entry:

“Please leave your name and number after the beep.”

“Umm, Lynne.  I feel a little uncomfortable leaving a message.  I don’t usually use the phone at all.  I just called to tell you that everything is going to be okay.  Relax.  Drink a martini.  Go outside and enjoy the flowers, the sky, the grass.  

 

“I guess I need to be a little more specific.  You won’t know my voice and you can’t call me back.  The caller id says “unknown” because most people don’t know me.  In fact, you think I am fictional, made up as a result of the ’opium of the masses.’  I don’t usually call.  People who say I do are really pretty disturbed.  

 

“I know you’re tired.  I know you’re weary.  I know your plans don’t include me.  Ha!  Who do think inspired Bob Seger to write those words?  Sometimes I crack myself up.  

 

“I’m not sure why I called.  I am not looking for new followers or believers.  I just know you are tired and weary and I wanted you to know that things will be okay.  You have worked hard.  You built a life for you and your family.  You should be proud of your practice, your family!  I can’t believe I just said that!  Don’t wise “people” say “pride goeth before a fall?”  Who says “goeth” anyway?  I have never talked like that.  Actually, I don’t usually talk at all. I know you are going to think this is a crank call.  Crank.  I love that word.  I love lots of your words.  Onomatopoeia.  That’s a really cool word.  But, to tell you the truth, I like French better than English.  But, I digress.

 

“I just called to say hey.  Now take it easy.  Appreciate what you’ve got.  Don’t take things so seriously.  ‘Life is a cabaret, old chum.’  I just can’t get these songs out of my head.

 

“Well I probably should go now.  I want you to know that I realize you have good intentions.  And hell is NOT paved with good intentions.  In fact, don’t tell anyone I told you this, but there is no physical place called “hell” at all.  Hell is a state of mind, not a place.  Love is a state of mind, also.  Choose love and all things will be okay. 

 

"Oh, and thanks for not eating mammals.  That was a mistake, having animals eating animals.  I’m not perfect.  If I had things to do over again, I would change that.  Also, I had no idea hormones would be so powerful.  Maybe all of this testosterone was a bad idea, too.  Oh well, hopefully we all learn from our mistakes.

 

"Lynne, I just called to say I love you.  Shit, another song lyric.   Well, you get the point. Take care and stop worrying.  Bye. "