Iiwas watching television in my living room when the telephone rang. When I said “Hello!”, an elderly ladies voice asked. “Is Blanch available?” I answered that Blanch was my mother and she had died three years ago.

“Oh dear!” The voice said.
I so wanted to tell her ‘this is her son’. The was a click and all I could hear was a dial tone. I dialed star 69 and they gave me the number of who-ever had phoned, I dialled and I was connected.
“Maason Almagamated. How may I direct your call?”
I explained the circumstances to the lady that answered, and she told me that all long distance calls went through her: none had been placed that morning. I thanked her and hung up but I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

I thought about it for about an hour, then I remembered I had some things of my mothers in the attic. I went up the dark stairs.
“Damn!” I cussed, as I tripped in the dark. “Some day I’m going to put a light on these damn stairs.”
I reached the attic and straight in front of me were my mother’s things. I don’t know what possessed me, but I started rummaging through her keepsakes. I saw an old box that looked like it had some letters in it and sitting on top was a letter addressed to me!

My mother fancied herself as a fortune-teller and, for as long as I can remember, she had told people’s fortunes with playing cards. She never told me mine, and when I would ask her why, she would always say: ” you don’t want to know the future” and I’d let it go at that.
With trembling fingers, I opened the letter that was addressed to me. It read:

Dear Son,
I am writing this letter to you with tears in my eyes as, within three years from this date, you are going to have a devastating stroke. You won’t have the life that you live now. You won’t die but you will be paralysed for the rest of your life. I knew this terrible thing would happen to you and it saddened me too much to read your cards.
Love Mom.

With tears in my eyes I started for the stairs but I fell to the floor, and coudn’t get up. I crawled to the top of the stairs and slithered down. My wife found me at the bottom and called an ambulance.
The doctor said that I had had a stroke, and I would be paralysed for the rest of my life. Thank you Mom, for not telling me during your life and thank you for trying to warn me.

I can only thank God for allowing me to raise my children before this dreadful thing happened to me.

The End.
The Phone Call by Don Fraser.
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