Telephone Story

I'd like to start a telephone story for one and all to join in, with and whatever. I'll start the story and you are invited to add to it as a comment. Who knows what will come out of it, but I'm sure it will be something interesting.

The Story that starts with a Telephone

The phone rang and Justin picked it up. To outward appearances Justin was a tall man in his late 20's with a small goatee and mustache not small enough to be pretentious but tidy enough to be considered well trimmed. He had hazel eyes, a shock of very dark brown hair and a muscular build.

After saying 'hello' Justin had been listening intently and silently to someone on the other end of the line. He wrote some notes on a small pad on the telephone stand in a sparse but well appointed living room. He said, 'thanks, I'll be right there' and hung up.

He turned off the element he had been using to sauté some onions and pulled the wok onto a cool part of the stove. He switched off the fusion CD that was on low in the kitchen and strode out into the foyer. After looking back once into his apartment of 4 years, he picked up his keys, bike helmet and panier bags and left for good.  The door swung quick and final on his way out.


About tgrignon

I came I saw I rented the DVD
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3 Responses to Telephone Story

  1. Four years was a long time. Sweat was slowly and steadily accruing and plastering his hair in tight ringlets around his head, in the circular path of contact it made with the padding of his helmet. It was night as well, and he had neglected to bring a coat that was heavy enough to combat the damp air, despite the exertion he was making. His calves and thighs were beginning to burn.

    Four years was long enough for Justin to forget that the old warehouse he was searching for was over an hour’s bike ride away. He had initially considered taking the subway or some such other form of public transit, but eventually decided to inhabit the better side of caution and not risk having security photos taken of him. Much safer (although much longer) to stick to side roads and suburbs that were decently lit, even though the route to the warehouse was much more circuitous and involved doubling back many times to reconfirm his mental geography.

    But now, things were getting more familiar – the quality of air and moonlight, that lingering smell of the nearby creek mingling with the musty smell of what he knew was the warehouse, filled nearly to the rafters with neglected cardboard boxes of the detritus of other people’s lives. After the flood a year ago, few had bothered their time with cleaning up and rehabilitating the old building. The sensation of dust from those boxes (Real or imagined? He could not tell.) began to make his nostrils tingle.

    And suddenly there he was. In front of the warehouse’s forbidding, unlabled steel double-door.

  2. tgrignon says:

    “I guess it is just you and me” came a voice from the dark after Justin had pushed open the door.
    Justin paused in the doorway for a second, trying to place that voice. “Martha…? Is that you?”
    “Whom did you expect?” Martha Chintre strode into the pool of light from the bare bulb illuminating the doorway and continued without waiting for a response, “You’re late.”
    Justin smiled, “It’s been a long time, Martha, if that’s still your name.”
    Now it was Martha’s turn to smile. “You can call me whatever you like as long as you have the information.”
    “I don’t have all that I wanted but I think I have enough for your purposes.”
    Suddenly the entire warehouse was flooded with light and several armed men wearing nightvision equipment and with weapons raised surrounded them.

  3. thevpmachine says:

    A.) The tension of the situation stained microfibres with human pheromones of fight or flight . Justin slowly raised his arms over his head. A uniformed mask lowered his weapon and approached him with the confidence of the trapper to the fox.The frisk was efficient and thorough. He Returned to the ranks. Martha lit a cigarette.The long white wispy plume rose into the blackness of the air above the lone lamp.
    The tip of the cigarette glowed bright orange Her maroon basted lips closed around the other end with severe and seductive movements.
    Justin’s eyes became narrow. What did she want?

    ” I know what you are thinking Justin. ” , Martha .
    ” Really?” , Justin replied , brows arched .
    ” You are wondering , What does she want ? ”

    ” Still practicing the soothsayers trade ? Might come in handy when you retire.”
    ” Its so delightful to see you again Justin, how is life after death? ”
    ” It was just what the doctor ordered, Martha. You should try it sometime..soon.”
    He strained to suppress the smirk. It would not be recieved well and well,there were at least a half dozen rifles pointed at his chest.

    There were footsteps getting louder from somewhere to the left. A strange creaking as the doorknob was turned. Only a dim light entered this room from the other. Wider, wider,as a silhouette formed in the frame. The overcoat and hat walked in short strides towards the cone of light . After a brief tilt towards Martha’s right ear, the silhouette raised the brim to reveal its grinning skull.
    ” Ivan! I should have guessed it would be you.” the venom in Justin’s throat burned .

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