Ring, Ring, Ring: Short Fiction

Tagged Under :

Phone picture, ringing short story

When I first heard the phone ringing, well – startled would be the accurate word for my reaction. I tripped over my own feet, the smooth pavement coming up – or was I going down – to meet my face.

My glasses skittered off and I fumbled around to find them, my whole face throbbing. I felt several things that I were certain not my glasses, but I was also certain I did not want to know what they were. Something wet, something slimy, and something fuzzy that moved when I touched it – that last one I especially did not want to know.

I found them at last and put them back on my face and slowly pushed myself back up. The ringing was still happening, so I felt my hands along the wall, until I ran into what felt like a phone. Instinctively, I answered it, but then, that moment after I picked it up, I paused. I looked around. Surely this phone was ringing for someone else? What was I doing answering a mystery phone call at midnight in the middle of an alley way? Was this some kind of set up whereby robbers jumped out and got me? A mugger, with a partner on the other line to do the ringing?

No, somebody like that would have already gotten me when I fell, right? Right. I think. I realized that faintly there was somebody saying, “Lori? Lori?” on the other end of the phone, so I took a deep breath and held it up to my ear.

“Hello?” I said.

“Oh thank goodness, Lori, I was beginning to worry somebody else had answered the phone and that you weren’t there, Lori. But how silly of me would that be? I know you are always there for me, Lori. Thank goodness, you are the best friend a girl has ever had, for sure, darling. Listen, I know you are always telling me not to, but I got myself in some real deep shit here, Lori, for reals. I need your help. I know you’ve always got my back. So listen, meet me in an hour at St. Vinnie’s and bring a pound of bacon, some rope, and some soap – a lot of soap – oh and while you’re at it, you should get some of that ice cream I like so much too. You know that kind with the little things of cookie dough and the chocolate chips and all that other good stuff. Of course you know, you never let me down, Lori. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“But wait -” I said, shocked into silence by the sheer force of this woman’s rambling. But it was too late, whoever was on the other end had hung up.

I checked my watch, 12:05 am. I should really go home. Leave Lori and this mysterious other woman to their own problems. It didn’t involve me. The woman didn’t even check to see if I was actually Lori first or not. But still . . .

“Siri, where is the closet 24 hour grocery store?”

This has been a work of fiction. Image from Barn Images. As always, this is a rough, rough story for the sake of stretching my story and writing skills, which I try to do regularly. Sometimes I share. Thanks for reading 🙂 

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