Not long ago, Dhruv's life was... perfect! His loving wife, the promise of their unborn child... then, brutally, death came to take them away from him. And left him there, on his own. His eyes are wide-open now, an emptiness without her, devoid of hope, like a deafening silence he can barely stand.
This little house on the edge of the woods which sheltered all his dreams: indeed, without her, is nothing more than a shack without her presence. Now that she's gone, he'll plant a tree, a memorial where he can come and visit with her...
He hit an object in the earth: A metal box containing an antiquated, single walkie-talkie.
A woman's voice on the other end of it: Hello?... Hello?!
This is where his story begins.
His name is Dhruv Patel, and this is his story.
[Should I write and publish a story on such plot?]