The phone booth was beautiful and ancient. It had stood in the sandy ruins of an abandoned city.
She’d spent the morning digging the machine out, and was thrilled to find that the sand had protected the machinery and wires from the elements.
She nearly jumped out of her protective suit when it started ringing. She scrambled for her recorder, trying to preserve the sound for the archives.
Then she reached out a shaky hand for the black plastic receiver and picked it up.
“Hello?” She asked.
“We’re been trying to reach you about your car’s warranty,” the caller said.

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