Contacts

 

Contacts

 

My phone was full of dead people,

I noticed one night,

while scrolling for the plumber.

Would it be heartless to delete them?

I wouldn’t be calling, after all,

nor would they,

so I assumed.

Counting my contacts,

it hit me right between the eyes.

The list of the living was measly.

My god,

where had everyone gone?

So I kept my dear departed

collected

in my humble hand-held device,

and would continue to carry them wherever I went,

as I’d done for so long now anyhow.

 

Chris Callard 

Chris Callard lives in Long Beach, CA. His poems have appeared in Cadence Collective and One Sentence Poems, his short fiction in Gemini Magazine, Flash Fiction Magazine, A Story in 100 Words, and ZZyZxWriterZ. His flash fiction story “Blood Drive” was nominated for The Best Small Fictions.