MUSTARD

prose piece

I answered the phone when it rang.

It was the police.

Hello, I said.

Hello, the police said.

I was having a sandwich with mustard on it.

There are cameras everywhere, said the police.

I looked around and saw no cameras.

I said, There are no cameras here.

The police said, Look above your bronzed lamp.

I looked above the lamp.

Damn, I said.

Look in the corner above the dresser.

Damn, I said, looking.

Look between the headboards of your bed.

Dammit, I said.

See, said the police, we’re watching you.

I looked at the camera above the lamp and waved.

We’re waving back, said the police.

Damn, I said.

It’s OK, just keep doing what you’re doing.

I’m eating a sandwich, I said.

We know, the police said.

OK, I said, and took another bite.

Is it good, asked the police.

Yes, I said, very good. It has mustard on it.

We know it does, we watched you make it.

I said, Damn.

OK goodnight, said the police, enjoy your mustard sandwich.

Goodnight, I said.

I hung up the phone.

I finished the sandwich.

I waved at the cameras one by one.