A Call by Alex rettie

​“You have a call from California, Frank.”
Kev didn’t know what it was all about
until he heard the whisper shift to shout:
“Pay for the funeral? What am I, a bank?”
He slammed down the receiver. “Well, she’s dead.”
What woman could have died that Frankie knew?
All his friends were men, and they were few.
“Someone I know?” Frank smirked, and shook his head.
“You never got that unlucky, doll,” he said.
“It was my ma.” His eye began to twitch.
“She dragged it out to ninety. Goddamn bitch.”
He stretched his shoes out on the king size bed.
 Turned on the TV – Oakland and LA.
“What a Jesus mess! What a fucking day.”