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Library

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Long vibrating chimes filled the silence as he shuffled through his book bag to find the source. After seven rings and a few annoyed glances his way, he said "hello?" The phone was accidentally (or maybe not accidentally) on speaker, and the automated message about his doctor’s appointment at 2 filled the air. A few minutes later he pecked out some numbers, closed his (flip) phone, then opened it, pecked some more. "Hello?" A man’s voice said.
“Hi dad, is your power back on?”
“Yes it is! Thank the Lord!”
“Hallelujah! Praise him!” he declared.
Around five minutes later, the chimes began again. The phone was deep into the bag, so he began dumping its contents out onto the table. Papers. Pens. A spiral notebook. A worn Bible. Newports. Trident. Seven chimes later he said, “hello?”
“Sir, your toilet’s fixed. I had to order a part, but it’s good to go now.”
“Oh thank the Lord! It’s been three days.”

I stayed awhile longer, motivation for work long gone, hoping I might catch some more exciting news. Finally, I packed up my work, walked over to him, tapped him on the shoulder and said, “I’m glad your toilet’s fixed.”
And would you know, he looked at me, alarmed, like who are you and how would you know that?


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