Have you ever thought about how every possession has a story?

That lovely engagement ring in the jewellery store window, telling a tale of the most perfect day in someone's life. A skateboard on an auction website? .... If only these things could talk?

If only they could tell there story...... I bet it would make interesting reading.

Helena began to contemplate these things, whilst she ran her long, manicured fingers over the back of her telephone. For whatever reason those baby shoes are unworn, they must tell a story of their own.

As she pondered on these thoughts, a cold shiver ran down her spine. She picks up the phone again, as curiosity and an overwhelming urge to call back gets the better of her.

As she puts the phone to her ear, flicking her long brown hair away from her face, the sound of his tormented voice still runs through her like a hot knife through butter, and she gently places the phone back in it's reciever.

Maybe later, maybe when he's forgotten about the call, he won't remember her voice after a couple of hours.

She gets up from the rocking chair and stretches her stiffened body, A loud ringing makes her jump slightly before she answers the singing phone.

"Hello" she says in her usual posh telephone voice.

"Hi this is Tom here, you called earlier about the add for the Baby shoes?"

The End

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