I found an English phonebooth
I’ll keep this brief, I’ll keep this simple. I don’t know how much time I have left, but maybe someone will be able to help.
I found an English phonebooth, bright red paint chipped and slowly fading, green moss taking over, windows so filled with grime it was almost impossible to look through them, white TELEPHONE sign turned a rusty orange and a crown carved on all four sides under a dusty roof. It was exactly like every phonebooth you’d expect to see anywhere in London.
But I found it in the woods, and I was in Maine.
I’d been hiking out into the backcountry for about a day or so when it just sort of appeared in front of me. I was walking between a pair of trees when I heard a rustling off to my left, maybe a bird or something, and when I turned my head back it was there, right in front of me.
Now know I shouldn’t have, but I walked up to it, pulled on the door. The hinges were rusty and it took a bit out of me to get it open. Inside was like any other booth you can imagine, big silver box, silver buttons, silver coil, slit for coins, and a black receiver. I was lightly brushing off some dust from the box when it rang.
I nearly broke the windows, heartbeat pounding in my ears, almost as loud as the ringing. The ringing. A tiny bell vibrating somewhere inside the box. Could payphones even be called? I’d never used one before. I stared at it for a moment, watched it ring a third time.
Then I answered it.
I can’t exactly explain what was going on in my head. I picked up the receiver hoping it’d make the sound stop. It did, of course, but as for why I decided to put it to my ear, well, I’m just not really sure. Not that it made much of a difference anyway, there was no sound coming from the other end. No static, no dial tone, just a dead receiver. I hung the phone back up and walked out.
My first thought was that these things must run on electricity or something. I was in the middle of looking around for some sort of power chord when they showed up.
Two guys. One of them in a light blue jean jacket. I can’t really remember the other one. They asked me a bunch of questions, asked me if I’d touched the booth, asked me if I’d interacted with it in some way, if I’d heard it ringing at all.
I freaked out and lied. Told them I’d just walked up to it and hadn’t touched it. Had just been looking at it when they showed up. I asked them if it was theirs and they didn’t answer, just said something about me staying put. I didn’t listen. Got out of there the second they’d turned their backs and they never came looking for me.
I’m home now. It’s only been a day, or, at least that’s what I think. I don’t know anymore. I noticed it last night when I was making tea. Or this morning. Whatever it was. I counted to sixty while letting it steep and put my phone’s timer on. When I was done counting my phone said twenty minutes had passed, but I counted normally. I remember counting normally. My tea was cold, and it didn’t fall right when I dropped it. I mean it took longer than it should have to hit the ground. By just a second at most, but enough to not look natural.
I started writing this a minute ago. A minute ago the sun was coming through my window. Now it’s about to set. A minute ago I started hearing the ringing again. It was coming from downstairs. Now I can hear it at my door.
I had a GPS tracker on when I saw the phonebooth. These are the coordinates.
45.569289367492644, -69.39480829179423
I doubt it will still be there, I’m guessing those guys must have taken it, but if it is, do not answer it.