One of the phones rang. Jackson was still shitting.

Ring, ring.

He sighed out deep, disappointed. Disappointed in what his life had become, in all the individual decisions he made—they seemed good and correct and promising at the time—and yet here he was, in his little lousy office, 48 phones sitting on a table across from his modest desk.

Broken and smelly shitter, shared with the tenant in the other unit, some kind of dog grooming or dog mating or dog fighting, dog something-ing, down the cement hallway.

Jackson had left the door to his office open so he could hear if any of the phones rang. He didn't actually want them to ring, but here he was, the city's preeminent wordsman.

He wiped quickly, sloppily, and then pulled up his pants and fake-jogged to the phone. He picked up the receiver.

"Starlin Words and Letters, how can I help you today?"

"I need a birthday card for my son," the voice on the other end said.

"Mmhmm, what's his name?"

"Johnathon."

"Okay and how old is little Johnny turning?"

"He's going to be eight."

"Okay great..." Jackson scrawled out a loopy "8" on his notepad. "And what does Johnny like?"

"He likes trucks, you know, toy trucks."

"Got it. And when did you need the card by?"

"Well his birthday is tomorrow, so I need it tonight."

Jackson tossed his notepad down onto his desk and opened his top drawer in one swift motion. "Okay, one birthday card comes out to $550, there's a $300 same-day delivery fee," Jackson pulled out a large panel that had a opaque white glass top, two dials on the left side and a recessed area that looked to fit a phone handset. He turned one of the dials and the screen lit up. "I can knock off $50 for you so we'll call it $800 flat. Do you accept these charges?"

There was a shuffling noise on the other end, a kind of searching around for something, an uneasiness, a contemplative decision being made. Jackson stayed silent, he knew better.

The plain noises hung in the air for what could've been hours.

The man on the other end cleared his throat, then finally, "Yeah, yeah okay I accept."

Jackson flicked the second switch on his panel, "Excellent choice sir, please stand by for vocal confirmation of transfer," and then he placed the handset into the slot and the screen changed to a blue color. After a few moments, it turned green.

Jackson lifted the handset back to his ear, "Your card will be delivered by 10:00PM tonight sir, thank you again," and he hung up.

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