I trudge the quarter of a mile to one of the call boxes and decide the other was definitely nearer

Onward trudging even further.

Why do I always make the wrong choice. I finally reach the box. My stupid shoes kill on top of it all. A small sign hangs off the phone. Dread fills my mind as I slowly take in just what its telling me


This Phone is out of order. Please use other phone. Located half a mile <===direction.



I slump down by the side of the box in tears. This was not how I expected my evening to go. Rumaging in my bag I realise I have absolutly nothing to help me out of this situatuion. I dont even have any of those anti blister spots.

I would always remember to bring them after this.

So my situation is...

  • I have no boyfreind
  • No phone
  • Hurting feet
  • No fuel
  • No luck
  • An Ex who probably thinks I'm a lunatic.

Great just great. I need a miracle.

The End

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