Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 31.0: November 6th, 2008

Midnight Telephone

by Belinda Roddie 

He called me one night while I was sitting on the couch,

Emptying a bottle of Amaretto and watching Rod Serling’s face

As he spoke of a macabre demise coming my way.

He called me then, and the taste he gave was not as sweet

As what any glass of Amaretto would leave in my mouth.

He spoke of changing routine while I sat

With the screen casting my silhouette on the wall,

And as I listened, my own shadow seemed to nag me,

Frolicking at my silence, laughing at my calm.

He told me he had to keep moving while I, on this couch,

Could not, and hearing this, I could not help but

Laugh as well, laugh with my shadow,

My dancing doppelganger on the wall.

He asked, “Have you been drinking tonight?”

“No,” I lied, fearing that my wobbly pronunciations

Would give me away, “No, but have you

Been living tonight?” And I hung up.

He never called me back, and I, comfortable,

Undeterred from my nest, let Serling’s voice

Carry me away as I watched the cigarette

Burning in his hand, and I thought,

“One more drink will be enough tonight.”

The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since November 6th, 2008.