Lost in a Phone Booth

The toes of her worn black Chucks spattered dirty rainwater upwards with each step she took. Her black peacoat flapped against her jeans as she walked, her chin tucked into the broad wool collar. Her gray eyes flicked up for a moment, and, upon making eye contact with a stranger, she quickly jammed her chin back down into her coat. Her fingers clenched into fists in her pockets, bracing against her legs as she walked. 

She remembered the last words she had spoken. Mentally, she reprimanded herself and continued down the dirty sidewalk, taking longer strides. 

She rembered the scrap of paper in her back pocket. For three minutes she continued walking in her hunched state, acknowledging no one. Finally, she couldn't take the pressure any longer. Cursing herself, calling herself nine kinds of fool and ten degrees of insane, she wheled on the smooth, treadless heel of her Chucks and reached for the door of the nearest phone booth, slamming it shut behind her. The glass rattled; raindrops flew and spattered back against the glass whence they came. 

She realized she was holding her breath, and exhaled loudly, hoping to calm her hands, which were visibly shaking. It didn't work. She cursed herself all over again.

She tuched the smooth curved plastic of the phone, then withdrew her hand as if she had been shocked. What was she doing? This was insanity. It had been too long, yet not long enough. 

She reached behind her, pushing aside the long flap of her peacoat. Her fingers closed around the scrap of paper, worn soft. She had carried it with her everywhere.   Withdrawing it from her pocket, she unfolded it. The number was faint, but it didn't matter. The numbers had long been ingrained into her brain. She saw the numbers every night when she closed her eyes at night, and every waking minute between. 

Reaching again for the phone, her fingers closed around the plastic case once more. Before losing her nerve, she quickly yanked the reciever from the metal latch, and smashed the ten numbers into the tarnished metal squares.

A ringing. An endless ringing.

She closed her eyes. What was she hoping to hear? 

If only she knew.