The Voice on the phone
Asked for her by name.
It was professional,
Gentle but removed
A quality achieved through
Years of training,
Years of making these calls.
The Voice on the phone
Was not unique.
It was like any other voice;
Nothing to distinguish it,
No inflection, no regional cues.
It relayed the message calmly,
Words scripted for these occasions.
The Voice on the phone
Was one in a million
In her mind.
For years to come it would
Wake her from sweat-drenched sleep,
Stop her cold on the drive home,
Taunt her when she passed his door.
The Voice on the phone
Closed with the standard
" I'm sorry for your loss ",
Searing its words on her heart.
" Thank you ", she whimpered.
Then the Voice on the phone
Was gone . . . but never forgotten.
