It was broken. I held the receiver and heard nothing. The line was dead. I did everything you always do when this happens. I hit the little button that hangs up the phone multiple times. Nothing happened. I checked all the connections a couple of times. Nothing happened. I put the receiver down. Nestling in the little cradle that it calls home. I stared at the phone. Willing it to come back to life and ring just once. Nothing happened. I watched it for a while. I don’t know how much time I spent just staring at this shiny black phone. It didn’t ring. Eventually I just grabbed the receiver and pulled. The wire came away with little effort. I hurled the receiver at the glass beside me. It bounced off and hit me in the face. I felt the bruise forming below my eye as I stared at the receiver laying on the floor. That’s when it began to ring. That little disembodied black lump on the floor began to ring.

Nah, I’m just kidding. Who calls some random phone box at the end of some nowhere street?

-Alice