Conversation · Payphone

A metal payphone under a yellow plastic dome. There's a bitter, caustic taste on the tip of your tongue as you look at the handset.

Life is garbage.

Put 10 cents in and dial a random number: 005-24-03-155.

Calling...

Still calling...

This feels wrong. Should you be doing this?

End of tone. Someone picks up.

"Pierre? Is that you, Pierre?" The voice is female and sounds about a hundred years old.

Say you're not Pierre... that seems like a better idea. (You don't know why.)

"Yes, it's me -- Pierre."

"So nice of you to find the time to call me! It gets so lonely. Even the animals have died."

"It gets lonely even when you're with people."

"Are you sure you're Pierre? Your voice, it's different... I... there... chrysanthemum..."

Her voice is drowned in white noise. Sounds like waves washing a beach, growing in volume until the call suddenly disconnects.

You get a sinking feeling. It makes you look if Lieutenant Kitsuragi overheard you. To your relief, he did not.

"What kind of pets did you have?"

"That's... not good."

"No, this is not Pierre."

"Do you have any news about Pierre?"

"Yes, Pierre is dead."

"What a pity... I'm afraid I won't be coming to the funeral. I.... there... chrysanthemum..."

"Who is Pierre?"

"He's my sister's grandson. He used to visit me as a lad... Fine young man..."

"But who are you then? A salesman of some sort? Modern goods are rubbish. And I can't afford them anyhow. It's a shame what you did to our country..." The woman moans and the phone lines howl in unison with her.

"No, I'm a police officer."

"To hell with the police! To hell with you..."

"I'm not a salesman, I was just calling a random number and you somehow ran with it."

"This is because we are bred to be leaders. I can hear the common or mixed background from your voice."

"I just so wanted it to be Pierre... Have a pleasant evening, prankster."

Disconnect tone.

"I don't know who I am... But who are you?"

"I was a baroness."

Pause. There is silence on the other end.

"You won't get me and you won't get my money!"

Phone hanging up.

"Yes, I'm a salesman. What exactly did we do to your country?"

"You ruined it and you sold it to foreigners. You don't own anything if everything is for sale."

"Give it a thought. Goodbye."

"No, I have nothing."

"Sure you do. No one has anything nowadays."

"You're either a salesman or a statistician of some kind. I am not interested in cooperating."

Hang up. [Leave.]

"I might be? What's Pierre like?"

"You want my MONEY?!" (Punch the phone.)

The cold metal is hard and your knuckles bleed.

Takes your mind away from that voice, for one second at least...

"That's enough now, officer..." The lieutenant stands at a distance.

Punch it again, the pain is good.

The cold metal is hard and your knuckles bleed a little...

The cold metal is hard and hurts your knuckles. You look at them turning purple.

[Leave.]

Put 10 cents in and dial a random number: 005-99-77-313.

Calling...

Calling...

Calling...

Still calling...

Still calling...

"Stop calling me, man!" Someone picks up. The voice on the other end is slightly hysterical.

"I'll get you your money, alright? I just need 'til tonight. Let me work."

"You seem to be in some sort of trouble. Maybe I can help you, I'm a police officer."