He stared at the pay phone. A relic from a time long ago. Now silent. A reminder of a call from a stranger. A female voice. Still as clear as the day he lifted the receiver from the pay phone and listened to her words. The voice hauntingly peaceful yet filled with trepidation. A one sided conversation about an unimportant life mixed with a tearful apology.
Why did he answer? Was it authentic? He searched the papers the day after. Nothing.
Sleepless nights followed. More self abuse. A new path of destruction. Now he lifts the phone. Will anyone answer?
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Till we meet again. Good day.
Mind of Shoo