the phone rings: a flash fiction

Sarah’s phone rung. It must be Mom, she thought as she answered it. “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Joe with Secure Homes, are you a homeowner?”

“No.”

The beep of the phone as she hung up satisfied her. Stupid telemarketers. She should have known not to answer before checking the number.

The phone rang again, and, without thinking, she answered. This time it really should be her mother.

“Hello, this is Joe, with Secure Homes, are you a homeowner?”

“No!”

Beep. Why would they call back immediately after having just called her? Ugh, they really are a pain, Sarah thought.

Her phone began to ring again, and this time she checked the caller ID. Same number. Now she was really mad.

“Hello, my name--”

“No, go away! Stop calling me! I’m going to block you!” She nearly hung up, but she was so stinking mad that she wanted to know what the telemarketer had to say for himself. She could hear his breathing on the other end, and after a few seconds his voice returned, hesitant at first. It had lost its fake, cheery tone and felt more familiar.

“Hello, it’s me, Joe, do you want to go on an adventure?”

What? Was she supposed to know who he was? She could just hang up. But why not mess with this guy for a few minutes before she blocked him? “Oh! Joe! Hi!”

“Forgot the password again, huh?”

Curioser and curioser.

“No, no, ummm...hold on...it’s...I’m a homeowner of a modest split level in Seattle.”

Beep. He had hung up on her.

Well, that’s one way to fix the problem, Sarah thought. What a weird conversation.

Meanwhile, Joe sat in his office chair, phone raised to his ear. “Hello, security? I may have just compromised our position to a random stranger attempting to make up passwords...”