by Jeffrey Zable

I’m in the middle of a poem when the phone rings.
I’m expecting a call so that’s the only reason I answer it.
It’s a woman who says I’ve just won a Royal Caribbean Cruise
for two, and all I have to do to claim it is go to some place
and sign for it. “Why don’t you just sign for me and send
it to me. I’d really appreciate it!” I say to her. “Doesn’t work
that way. Sorry!” she responds. “If you want the package
you have to go to a certain address and claim it.” I’m now
angry with myself that I’ve wasted this much time on something
that I know is a scam. “Listen,” I say to her, “I’m giving you
permission to sign and claim it for yourself. You can go on the
cruise with your husband or boyfriend. I just don’t have the time!”
“Are you sure you don’t want to claim it?” she asks in a sad tone.
“I’m 100% positive!” I say, and hang up the phone. When I return
to my poem, I can no longer relate to it, so I hit the “Don’t Save” button–
and that’s how it ends.


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