I am terrified of the telephone.

Every time it rings my heart begins to skip. It beats in time with the wailing, a scream that tears at my chest and rips through my ear canals. 

My breathing starts to hasten. My thoughts begin to race. 

Do I pick up the phone? 

What happens when I do? 

How do I convey the air inside my larynx? 

Do I portray an image of boredom and dullness? 

Do I deepen the tone of my voice, acting like a businesswoman just back from her meeting? Or a young teenager lounging upon the sofa? 

Do I start with a shrill, a slight upward slant of the voice box? 

What message do I send out? What impression shall I leave upon their minds?

A simple Hello? Or would that seem too formal? 

No, they will know that I have been waiting, preparing all day with witticisms and remarks. 

What about some slang? ‘Sup.. but how do I place emphasis upon that apostrophe? 

Perhaps I can sneak in a little yawn as I pick up the phone – as if it were unintended – as if I was taken unaware. Who, me? Ah, so sorry – I was busy chopping the onions, doing the dishes, mowing the lawn. Ha, ha. Oh, yes. We are so busy. Ha, ha. 

Yes, a slow drawl with a slight fatigue behind the vowels should do it. Act like you do this all the time, like it brings no burden to your mind.

As if picking up the phone is second nature, like it’s something you do without even thinking. Like everyone else really.

Ready? Not quite. Give me a few more seconds to catch my breath. Give me a bit of space to prepare my mind. The words need to slip off my tongue – but not so quick that they don’t catch what I say. And remember to raise your voice so they can hear – not too much mind, otherwise you’ll just end up making a fool of yourself. 

Ready? 

Set.

Go!

The phone has stopped ringing.