THE CALL

Phoenix Walker-Hinds

It had been a few days since my job interview and I hadn’t moved from my sofa at all. Not to change the channel from Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Not even for food, so I was lucky there was a mini freezer next to me.
       While it meant my primary food source was Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough Ice Cream, my teeth were probably rotting and my cholesterol was skyrocketing. It also meant that I never lost eye contact with my landline.
       Sitting idly in my beans-stained vest, two-day-old boxers and hole-ridden socks, in an unbearable silence waiting for it to ring.
       The hour they said they would call had passed. Another job lost, I thought. But when I had lost all hope, the wailing tone sounded.
       Despite my joy for the call, for some strange reason I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Too many regret-filled employers wishing me the best. I didn’t think I could bear another. The hour had passed and that was never a good sign.
       My mouth dried as I picked up the phone, my thumb shaking as it approached the answer button.
       I was terrified for what they would say.
       ‘Hello?’ I said, my heart pounding.
       There was a pause. ‘Have you been mis-sold PPI?’
       ‘Oh fuck off you annoying prick.’