Writing Prompt: Hopefully the batteries would run out and he would stop talking soon.

The phone rattled in its cradle, the buzzer struggling to rattle the rusted joints. I poured some coffee into my cup, and stirred it with a dirty spoon. There was a pause, then it started again. Humphry leaned in close, resting his tan cheek on the dirt-stained desktop, his eyes going cross-eyed slowly as he stared at it. "What does it want?" He asked quietly.

Humphry was originally from the northern wastes. Because of some nasty chaos storms, artifacts largely didn't function there, and those few that did had a tendency to overload. The Gremlin Nomads made their homes there, and were fascinated with the technological marvels of their southern neighbors, and often collected broken scraps to study and trade around. This obsession gave their camps the appearance of mobile junk-yards, and there was a popular rumor that Gremlins sought to break things so that they could be taken back North.

Realistically, Gremlins weren't cursed. When it came to technology, though, they were curious and just the slightest bit clumsy. Humphry was more careful than others of his tribe, though likely that was due to experience. He had been exiled from the Northern Wastes many years before, and had lived comfortably inside the Empire, both above ground and in the under-city. Still, the most random things struck his fancy.

"It wants me to answer it," I replied, watching him carefully. The phone was not in the best of shape, and was just about to join its brethren in a Gremlin Camp. I had kept it going with a bit of luck and some small skill, because without it, I would likely be out of a job.

"Are you going to do it?" He grinned. "I would. It seems excited."

"Not this time, no." I went back behind my desk and collapsed into my chair. My feet went to their comfortable place on the corner, just a few inches shy of where Humphry crouched. The coffee was excellent, sweatened in the Jakara style, with red berry jam, cocoa powder, and the tiniest bit of rum.

"Why not?" His oversized eyes quivered with the rejection, and he looked like he was going to cry.

"Because it's the King's hour," I replied. "And only one person ever calls me during King's hour."

"The phone?" He asked innocently.

"The phone is not a person. It's just an artifact for communication. Someone is using another phone, somewhere, to contact me."

"Oh." His face curled in thought, "So it's like shouting, or smoke signals."

"Mystical shouting, but you're not far off."

"What a wonderful trick!" Humphry clapped his hands with excitement.

"It's... It's a good trick," I finally concurred. Let him enjoy the mundane. The buzzer began to clatter again, and Humphry went back to staring at it.

"I think the person wants to talk to you," He said quietly.

"I don't want to talk to the person, though. I'm allowed to not answer."

"Can I answer?" He asked. "If you're not going to."

I stopped just shy of stopping him, then grinned. "Sure Humphry, answer the phone. But you must swear to tell her I'm not here."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. "It's a deal!"

I gestured my acceptence to him, and sipped from my cup as he scooped up the phone. He balanced the phone in his hand, then carefully put it up to his head. "Is anyone there?"

Even from where I was sitting, I could hear her reply, "Where's Greyson."

"He's not here." Humphry announced, then winked at me.

"Where is he?" Her voice was harsh, and Humphry winced.

"I don't know." He replied, then, "I have to go."

He slammed the phone back onto the cradle, then sat back in the wooden guest chair. "I didn't like her." I nodded, and he grinned. "But I love this! Can I do this more?"

His eyes were practically glowing, and despite myself, I nodded. "Sure, as long as you're staying here, you may as well make yourself useful."

And that's how I Humphry the Gremlin became my secretary.