Eric Flynt

Ted

A man called me one night with his finger on the trigger. He asked me to give him a reason to live.

“Who is this?” I asked, muting the television.

“It’s Ted,” he said. “From accounts-receivable,” like I should have known.

“Ted, I haven’t had a job in months,” I said, and he asked if this was 4316.

“4319,” I said.

“My bad,” he said. “Dialed with my gun hand.”

I nodded.

“But look,” he said. “Do you think you could give me that reason to live anyway? I’m kind of at the edge of my rope here.”

“End,” I corrected. “You’re at the end of your rope.”

“Wow,” he said. “You’re really not good at this.”

I shrugged.

“Still,” he said. “Could you help me out?”

The commercial break was still on.

“It’s more of a suggestion,” I said, “but it’d probably help if you stopped thinking of yourself as ‘Ted from Accounts-Receivable’.”

“Thanks!” he said, sounding more cheerful, and hung up.

I felt better about myself until he called back the next night and asked how my day went.

Eric Flynt is a very short story enthusiast. He lives in Hattiesburg, where he is currently pursuing a Master of Arts from the Center for Writers at the University of Southern Mississippi.