Response to the prompt by Labyrinthia Mythweaver.

“Childhood is the time when you build castles in the air, and then spend the rest of your life trying to remember how you did it.”
C. S. Lewis

“Fuck that shit.”

Mack Devlin

CIRCLE K

Mack Devlin

Ring-ring!

I stop in my tracks, wondering when it was I last saw a phone booth.

Ring-ring!

It sounds like it’s saying my name.

Ring-ring!

Fuck, I mutter and lift the phone to my ear.

“Who is this?” I say, some bass in my voice.

I clear my throat, realizing I sound like Kathleen Turner. Now I’m not sure what to say.

“This is a phone booth outside the Circle K. How can I help you?” Nailed it.

“Motherfucker,” the voice says. “Rude,” I say.

“Mouth-fuck the curb,” the voice says.

“Ok, I’m hanging up now,” I say.

“Fatty,” the voice says. It continues, rapid, almost desperate. “Lard ass, fat boy, chunk, two ton!” I start to hang up.

“You’ll always be a loser,” the voice says.

I lift the phone to my ear again.

“Dad?” I ask. “Little fatty wants his Daddy,” the voice says. “Uncle Ray?” I ask. “Uncle Ray died of testicular cancer. He wasn’t THIS mean.”

“No,” I say. “He tickled too hard. Not that it was inappropriate. I think he was just…” I let the words trail off.

“What is this?” I ask. “Who are you?”

“Nobody,” the voice says.

“Odysseus!” I say. “You got you a phone card?! Things sure have changed in Ithaca.”

“Still as dumb as a rock,” the voice says. “Dad never wanted you. He thought you were defective. Be a priest, Mack. No woman will want to marry you.”

“Stands true,” I say. “But that’s not on me. I’ve tried.”