Late one evening I picked up the phone to call a friend and I heard two women chatting with one another in a language that I guessed was Italian. I listened for a while, but since I couldn't understand a word they were saying I quickly got bored. Then the question occurred to me again: would the other people on the line be able to hear me if I spoke? I waited and listened for a while, wondering whether I should say anything or not. I felt that it would be awkward to suddenly introduce myself.
Then I had a better idea. Without any warning I let out a deep, long, throaty, perfectly evil laugh.
There was a moment of silence. Then, much to my delight, the women started jabbering at each other in shrill, frightened voices. I couldn’t understand a word, unfortunately, but there was no doubt they’d heard me.
I don’t know if this sort of thing still happens to phones. It hasn’t with mine ever since I moved out of that apartment, at any rate. But it still tickles me to think that somewhere out there two women may be telling their grandchildren the scary story about the night that the Devil got on the phone with them.
1 comment:
Ha!
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