He didn’t think to ask how or why. He just willingly accepted the cardboard box with the purple bow and listened to the strict instructions that followed.
“When it rings, you answer,” whispered the hooded figure before disappearing into the crowd.
At home he sat at his kitchen table staring at the red rotary phone. Two days since he was handed the box. Still nothing.
Then, the relic erupted, its ring piercing the once silent room.
He answered immediately. The voice on the other end was unmistakable. His own.
“Listen carefully, dummy…” he told himself. “Your future depends on it.”
The Weekday One Hundred 