The phone rang, louder than the silence of a snowy night. He didn’t recognize the number. He had nothing to prove. He answered it.

“Hello?” He was gravelly. Hoarse.

 “Hi! I am calling on behalf of TD Wealth and Finance! I would like to discuss a credit limit increase that you have been approved for.” 

He did not respond right away. The plastic of this voice took him aback. He’d spoken to telemarketers before that could have been reciting their script in their sleep, but this was different. There was nothing coming from the other line. Not the shuffle of a paper. Or the sound of a breath. He instinctively held his. 

“Why are you calling me this late?” It was 11:53pm.

There was a second of pause, and one click of a finger on a key. “Sir, we are open 24/7 to help with any and all of your financial needs. I would like to discuss a credit limit increase that you have been approved for.”

There was no inflection or punctuation. Her tone was monotonous and overly cheery.

“Is this a robot?” He frowned and looked again at the number he was being called from. He did not recognize the area code.

The voice let out a sudden and startling laugh. He jumped slightly and sat up straighter. It was too like the voice, monotonous and rhythmic. Practised. Perfect.

“No sir, I am a real person. We do not employ robots at TD Wealth and Finance. I would like to discuss a credit—“

“Why do you sound like that?”

A long pause. Two clicks. “Sir, I am not sure what you mean. I would like to discuss a—“

Now he laughed, cutting her off. Every time she started that sentence it sounded the same. 

“Are you a robot?”

This time there was no pause and no click. “No sir.” It was louder. And faster. Almost desperate.

“Are you sure?”

Click, click, click, click. “Yes sir. I am a real person. I am a real person. I am. Real. And I am calling on behalf of TD Wealth and Finance! I would like to discuss a credit limit increase that you have been approved for.”

Silence. He put the phone on speaker and placed it on the coffee table. He sat back against the couch.

“Sir?”

He listened hard. Listened for something outside of the uniform voice. No clicks. No breathing. No shuffling. Silence. Heavy. It crawled up the back of his neck and told him to hang up. This was wrong. She was wrong. 

Click. Nothing. He had to check to see if the line had disconnected. It hadn’t.

“Do you believe you are real?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t believe that is true.” He tensed.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

The voice was different. Wrong. So very wrong. More wrong than it had been. All wrong, all fake.

He mashed the end call button. Heard the click as the line shut off. The room was still silent but there was a palpable shift as the phone call ended. He felt like an elephant had just been removed from his chest.

He placed his phone face down on the table and pushed it out of reach. He covered his eyes with his hands and took a breath. Something about that call had chilled him to the bone. He pushed his back into the couch and pressed his fists into his eyes until he saw stars. 

He breathed.

“I am a real person.”