edith zimmerman

A very short story.

It was a dark and stormy night, and I was alone in my house when the phone rang. “Hello?” I said. “Who is it?” But the person on the other end was silent. “This is Edith Zimmerman, who are you?” I asked. “I love to talk with people, please say something.” But there was just more silence along with a few snatches of ragged breathing and the faint sound of knives being sharpened. “Hello hello? Oh well, I’m excited you called, either way, because whenever I get to talk to someone it’s so awesome for me. So let me just say a big thank you, this is really, really great.” And here I paused to let whoever it was say something, like “You’re welcome,” but still they were so quiet! Although the sound of knives was getting a little louder. “So, what are you up to?” I asked. “Cooking? Are you getting ready to chop something up for dinner?” Just then I heard a low garbled groan. “Hey, you’re talking!” I said. “You’re going to talk to me! I can’t wait for what you’re going to say!” I was smiling so wide I could hardly contain it! It felt like my smile was so wide it would rip off the sides of my face and peel backward until my entire skull was exposed in the biggest, happiest smile ever.

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