Work has been busy. Life has been good. I wash my hands after opening my mail. I pick up the phone with tweezers, and every word I hear is scrutinized for accuracy and context.
Work has been busy. Life has been normal. I open mail and aim it directly at my nasal passages. I don’t pick up the phone at all, so there is nothing to hear.
Work has been insane. Life has been sane. I cut myself with envelopes and, skipping unnecessary steps, infect myself with anthrax. The phone tells me it knows my secrets, it knows, it knows.
Work has worked out. Life has been lived. No one sends me mail anymore; even the junk mail never arrives. The telephone is unplugged.
I hand over my life to you, as we worked out on the phone. Here, have a cookie. I’m all done.