My Very Sanity Fleeting

Each day around 2:30, I receive a mysterious phone call. It is from an unknown number, and again, it is very, very mysterious.

I do not know who this person is on the other line, and apparently, after the brief delay and then the recorded message telling me that this call may be monitored for quality control purposes, they make it known that they do not know me either.

“Is Ricky Chestin available?” the female voice, very Nebraskan with a twinge of old India mixed in, questions.

I pause.

The voice...