─═✧✧═─ 𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝟙𝟡𝟙𝟚 ─═✧✧═─

Echoes Across Time

In the small town of Greenridge 1912, Henry sat cross-legged on the floor of his family's parlour, fiddling with his new treasure—a shiny black candlestick telephone. It had been a gift from his father, and Henry was eager to try it out. His best friend, William, lived a few streets away, and they had plans to meet up and climb the old oak tree behind William's house.

Henry turned the rotary dial, carefully spinning each number for William's phone. He held the receiver to his ear, listening to the slow, mechanical clicks. The sound of the line connecting always felt like magic to him—an invisible thread that ties people together across space.

The phone rang once. Twice.

Then there was a click on the other end and a voice.

"Hello?"

Henry frowned. The voice was unfamiliar, higher-pitched, and not William's. It sounded... different. "Uh, is this William?"

There was a pause. "William? No, this is Mia. Who's this?"

Henry's heart skipped a beat. "M-Mia? I'm Henry. I'm trying to call my friend, William. He lives in the big house on Elm Street."

"Elm Street? The big old house with the porch?" The girl sounded confused. "I live there. Are you sure you've got the right number?"

Henry stood straight, glancing at the polished wooden telephone stand as if the device itself could explain. "Yes, I'm sure. William's family has lived there for years."

Mia let out a small laugh on the other end. "That's impossible. No one lived in this house for years before my family moved in. Are you pranking me or something?"

Henry blinked. "Prank? No, I—what do you mean? William was just here last week! You must be mistaken."

There was a long silence on the line. Henry shifted uncomfortably, staring out the window at the sun dipping lower on the horizon. Something wasn't right.

Finally, Mia spoke again, this time more cautiously. "Henry, what year do you think it is?"

Henry hesitated. "It's 1912, of course."

Mia's breath caught. "1912?" She whispered, more to herself than to Henry. "No, that's... impossible. Henry, it's 2024."

Henry's heart began to pound. "What? 2024? That doesn't make any sense. How could it—"

He stopped mid-sentence, the weight of her words crashing over him like a wave. "What do you mean it's 2024?" he asked again, his voice shaking slightly.

"I mean," Mia said softly, "you're calling me from over a hundred years in the past."

Henry slumped into the nearest chair, his mind racing. This had to be some kind of mistake, a bizarre dream. Phones didn't work like this. They connected you to people nearby, not through time.

"But... but how?" he stammered.

Mia was quiet for a moment, her voice thoughtful when she finally replied. "I don't know how. But this is my house now. Maybe something happened... with time. Maybe it's because you were calling William. Maybe that's the link."

Henry swallowed hard. "William's house... Is it still there? After all these years?"

"Yes," Mia said. "It's a little old, but it's still standing. There's this old rotary phone in the attic. My dad wanted to get rid of it, but I thought it was cool, so I've been keeping it in my room."

The connection between them hung heavy with realisation. Henry had dialled William's number—on a phone that had somehow survived over a century, perhaps carrying with it the echoes of past conversations.

"I think your phone," Mia said, her voice trembling, "and mine—they're connected, through time."

Henry's head swam with the impossibility of it. He stared at the receiver in his hand, as though it might somehow explain everything if he just looked hard enough.

"What do we do?" Henry finally asked.

Mia was silent for a moment. "I don't know. But we should figure it out. Maybe we can learn more about the history of this house, or William. What happened to him after you last saw him?"

"I... I don't know," Henry whispered, feeling a strange pang of sadness. "I thought I would see him tomorrow."

Mia sighed on the other end of the line. "Maybe we can find out together."

Henry nodded, though Mia couldn't see him. "Together."

And so, across a century-long divide, a boy from 1912 and a girl from 2024 began their friendship—connected by an old telephone, a house that had stood through time, and a mystery neither of them fully understood.

The phone crackled softly, but the connection held strong.