Trouble Caked in Sugar by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
The sound of her saccharine voice
for the first time in ten years
brings the hair on the back
of my neck to full attention.
She chats and chuckles,
relates a long-winded tale
until I almost snap
with impatience.
Dread digs claws in my mind.
I ask, What can I do for you?
As suspected, she wants a favor,
a paper buried
in a box in the attic,
to help her hang a trumped-up infamy
on some poor man’s shoulders.
I feel the smile on my face
transmit over the phone
as I say,
No.
