The Contestant

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Her mother answered the unit when it rang. It shrilled violently in the air. Poppy would remember this moment. Her mother reached out a shaking hand to take hold of the receiver. No one got any calls on their telephonic units unless it was mandatory or it was the Calling. We were notified of mandatory telephonic transfers of information via our tablets.

            So when the phone rang, Poppy knew it could be one of two things: it was the Calling for her or something had happened to my father. Unfortunately for Poppy, it was the former Her mother listened for a moment and nodded her head, even though the person on the other end couldn’t see her.

            “I see.” She said. “Thank you.”

            When Poppy’s mother replaced the unit on the wall handset and turned to look at Poppy, her eyes said it all. Her mother didn’t need to say anymore. It was all in her eyes. She said it anyways, her mother always did. She would always go on speaking, waiting for a moment to speak, to fill in a silence.

            She had become a Contestant.