Brass Ep. 13
An old, red telephone box rattled in the wind. For a moment, it sounded like it was ringing. Copper shoved the rusted door open and looked inside. Colourless calling cards dulled by the sun adorned the back wall. A ripped up phonebook scattered its pages across the floor.
She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. “Hello? Is anybody there?” Copper waited for a reply that silence answered.
She noticed spectacles had been painted across the eight and nine keys. Copper figured the phone had lost its contacts.