If you go down the Graveyard,
expect to have some fun.
If you hear the phone ring,
then you had better run.
Don't pick up the phone,
or else you will be quite stuck,
because once you pick up the receiver,
you have just run out of luck.
I live in the place where red telephone boxes go to die.
I am very aware this is a weird statement. Also a weird place to begin, but every story must have some kind of beginning.
My home town is situation in England, in a place I can only refer to as the arse end of no where. It is a small village with very few shops and we get the occasional tourist every once in a while, but the main sight that they come to see is the Graveyard.
Possibly the freakiest place you can go to, the Graveyard is where county councils all over the country send any old, disused or generally rusty and knackered red phone boxes. Lines upon lines of these things, hollow shells of past lives and conversations. Paint chips cover the floor, while red rust spreads across them enveloping them in to a crusty state. The air is tense with the history and memories they contain. Conversations of the past ring out, an echo of the life in the past.
Some of the older folk of the village take it in turn to keep an eye on the Graveyard, because us 'whippersnappers' might mess it up. A few broken window panels and the elderly instantly flip and think every young child is responsible. Me on the other hand, I use it as a meeting point for my friends.
My name is Darryl Wilkes. Let's go to the Graveyard.
YOU ARE READING
The Red Phone Box Graveyard
PertualanganWhat happens when red phone boxes die? What happens in the maze? What is going to happen to you?
