The phone rang. I hesitated to pick up. I won't get any work done this way, I thought. Already I'd wasted the entire morning working on my "Personal Glossary - The Deep Cover Edition," a work which, if discovered by anyone, would certainly result in my being institutionally committed, perhaps indefinitely.

 

So I didn't pick up. I waited for the ringing to stop, then walked to the bathroom to take a crap. On the way back to my seat, I used the water bubbler and then chatted briefly about last night's game with the guy who brings the mail.

 

When I reached my desk, I resumed my seat, fully expecting to resume (read: start) the day's work.

 

I then quickly picked up the phone.

 

"The only thing that could interest them, the only thing that might possibly matter, are your nightmares," hissed the voice.

 

"I don't have nightmares," I hissed back, issuing quick glances to my left and right while imperceptibly (I hoped) cupping my hand over the receiver. "They're not what I'd call scary...usually."

 

"You ungrateful bastard," the voice mused. "You don't really get it, do you?"

 

"What did I tell you about calling me at work?" said I. "You're impacting my job-related performance. You might very well get me fired."

 

On the line's other end, I clearly heard what sounded like a large book falling shut.

 

"You do it to yourself," said the voice. "You disgust me. See you tonight, ingrate. Goodbye."

 

"Now you listen to me -" I said.

 

I had a good mind to call it back. As if that were possible.

 

I had to go walk around in the parking lot in the cold rain for about 20 minutes after that. The reason was I had suddenly started to hallucinate that I was a ward of the state hospital and that the doctors were conducting experiments using me as the test subject. Except at the time, it wasn't a hallucination