Buried Landlines

I’m committing attempted humor….

     Yellow and black caution tape was draped around the makeshift graveside like creepy crepe paper streamers, welcoming guests to a bumble bee themed death day party.

     Arriving separately, the bereaved were dressed in their best outfits from the 1980’s, complete with threatening shoulder pads, desperate claw foot bangs and Sony Walkmen on their belts, and as assembly was required, they gathered dutifully as instructed.

     The operator cleared her throat, dabbed at her eyes, and tested her headset: “Ladies and Gentlemen, Droids, Bots and others, please bow your heads and dim your screens in memory of our dearly departed landlines.” 

     “Grandma, what’s a landline?” A boy asked, while playing in the dirt under the caution tape.

     A typewriter answered him from the point of no return “it’s an old fashioned cell phone.”  

     “Like an iPhone 14, Dummy!” Exclaimed his sister, in the loudest possible whisper. 

     Gravediggers started putting the dirt back over the buried landlines while mourners solemnly tossed dimes and quarters into the gash in the earth.

     Night fell, and the deathly sentence was punctuated with words echoing off the trees and stones: “The number you have reached is not in service.  Please check the number and dial again.”