You Made a Ghost

Posted: May 30, 2012 in Uncategorized

Ian took a big chug off of his water bottle, flipped his shoulder up to put the strap of his backpack up closer to his neck, and started walking away from the neon of the oasis, the all-night convenience store – in fact, the one closest to the edge of town. Just before clearing the parking lot and his eye caught the soothing, inviting blue of the pay telephone, gum on the sides of the enclosure, water-damaged and battered telephone book swaying in the night breeze.

His left hand pushed into his sweaty pocket, he rolled his last quarter in the palm of his hand, felt the metal heating up as he flexed his grip around it. Over and over and over, turning the small copper and nickel disc end over end repeatedly as he moved his feet forward, but turning his head to not let that black handset out of his sight.

He shook his head and blinked his eyes and found himself in front of it, the black plastic now in his right hand, the water bottle resting on top of the frame, and a hard tone near his ear as the phone asked him in its own language who he would like to speak with. His lips went dry. He blinked hard again as a small tremor crept through his muscles. With a thunk, the handset took its residence once more on the metal jutting forward. Ian dropped the quarter to the bottom of his pocket once more, and leading with his right foot, he set out to be a few miles beyond city limits before sunrise.

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