Receiving a spam call

"Hello," he says. "Very good morning."

Grr. Another spam call. I slam ‘end call’ with the force of a thousand suns. I want it to hurt, but I feel no satisfaction. I’m sure he’s already calling the next victim.

I’m left there wondering, why would a phone call make me second-guess my entire life plan and want a “three-bedroom with a view”?

But then I wonder—what about him, the vile spammer?




Man, he’s stuck in here with me. We're not the players; we're the pawns, and we're both being played! My perspective shifts as my heart swells with empathy.

And then the phone rings. “Hello, are you interested in a three-bedroom with…” No. It’s him. That bastard.