By Beth Sherman
In the supply closet of the Paramus Walmart, Jeremy takes out his phone and his father’s credit card and dials 1-800-TITS. He’s hoping he’ll get Miranda but it’s all so random. When someone starts talking, Jeremy knows right away it’s not her. This girl is older, her voice less husky. What’s your pleasure, Hot Stuff, she says. The picture on his screen is of a blond in pink panties and matching pasties, with the word Lace underneath, though their names are probably made up. Jeremy thinks Miranda’s real name could be Stacy. He pictures her living in one of those really tall apartment buildings in Ft. Lee, only a few miles from his father’s house in Englewood. Driving a Subaru, going to hot yoga. Although really, she could be anywhere in the world for all he knows. He leans against a broom. His break only lasts ten minutes and three of them are gone. Um, can you put me on with Miranda? he asks, hating how whiny and young he sounds. He told Miranda he’d die a virgin. He’s only 17, but he knows this to be true the way he knows his mother is never coming back and his father will never stop drinking. Are you there? Miranda’s a friend of mine. Now soft rock is playing. He thinks about how he never talks to any of the girls in his class, how they look right through him like he doesn’t exist. How the boys that he used to hang out with joined the lacrosse team or the school musical or debate club and barely nod to him in the halls. Last week, Miranda had said, you worry too much. Relax. Like they knew each other. The picture on his screen changes to a woman with dark curly hair and a devilish grin, covering her boobs with her hands. Probably not even her real body. Hello, says Miranda, and the fact that she’s on the other end is like calamine lotion smeared over an itchy mosquito bite. It’s me, he whispers. How are you? He hears her breathing, wonders if she likes the beach, if she goes to Stop & Shop. When she starts talking dirty, he interrupts. Let’s talk about normal stuff. Have you watched any good TV shows lately? What’d you have for breakfast? He prays she won’t hang up. Prays harder. His hands are sweaty. His poor heart a clenched fist. Just when he thinks he can’t stand the silence one more second, he hears her amazing voice. Cottage cheese omelet.
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Beth Sherman’s novella-in-flash, HOW TO GET THERE FROM HERE, will be published in July 2026 by Ad Hoc Fiction. She has had more than 250 stories featured in literary journals, including Ghost Parachute, Fictive Dream, Bending Genres and Smokelong Quarterly, where she’s a Submissions Editor. Her work appears in Best Microfiction 2024 and 2026 and Best Small Fictions 2025. The author of five mystery novels, she can be reached on social media @bsherm36.