Like clockwork, at 9:45 AM 75-year-old James Marsten walked out to his mailbox to see what was inside. He found the ever-present junk mail, four bills, his pension check, and a small brown package that was postmarked Turkey. It was addressed to "Current Resident". With harrumph and a quick filing the junk mail under T while he was at the curb, he went back inside.  

James sat down in his chair by the tv and his coffee. Going for the bad news first, he opened the bills. Everything was up. No Suprise their. Next the good news. He opened the envelope that had his pension check. It had taken months of phone calls and letters but this time it was supposed to be right. It was. With a sigh of relief he resolved to hit the bank later that day.  Then he turned to the package. 

With a good swallow of black coffee, none of that fru fru stuff, he opened it. Inside he found 4 things. A phone. A 50. A note. And on the back of the phone attached with a sticky note, a pin. 

The note was short and read as follows; " Please forward this phone to the following address. Keep the change. I am probly already dead because of what I saw, so dont open the phone."  

This was a little surprising and he sat there with his coffee while he thought for a minute. 

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Something shady was going on. That much was clear. Well he sure wasn't going to forward the phone. He would take it to the police, and he would stop at the bank on his way to deposit the check. Those bills wouldn't pay themselves.  

The line at the bank was long and the tellers seemed in no hurry to move things along. Typical. Behind him was an obviously tired mom and her kid.  The kid was glued to some newfangled device. Was a wonder he didnt hit his head on the door when he walked in. 

When the sun finally grew cold enough to make hell freeze over, it was his turn to walk up to the counter. 

James was tired and frustrated. He had to go to the police station. That would take forever too and it would be exhausting. He sure wasent sending on that phone though. Everything was built up inside and it had to come out. Continently their was someone in front of him who had to smile, be polite, and listing to everything he said. 

Behind him the tired mother obviously heard what he said about the package with he phone. Nobody cared about common decency these days. The kid wasent listing in but that was only because he wasent listing to anything but that thing he held. 

After he left the bank, James went to the police station. It was just as long and exhausting as he expected. He was asked just about a million questions about the phone. As if he knew anything about it! Finaly they thanked him for bringing it in and sent him on his way. 

That night James had a good dinner and a glass of wine. He showered. Then he walked over to his bed and lay down. 

He never got up again.