-_The Last Call_-

in story •  2 years ago


   Short story written in a small local contest in person, with a time limit of 30 minutes to write, a limit of 200 words and that had to start with the phrase "The phone rang at four in the morning...

   In this case I show you the complete idea that occurred to me there and that I could only develop in a summarized way, because as you can see, this complete version that I present now occupies 383 words and far exceeded the limits of the contest.

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   The phone rang at four o'clock in the early morning and, although contained within the walls of that little hut in the middle of the forest, he interrupted the silence of the closed night.

   The rain began to rush hard on the hut, splashing freely on its roof; The little tinkle of water leaking through the dripping into the interior of the cabin began to accompany the scandalous sound of the telephone.

   The wind, raging, throwing rain on the fogged windows and whistling vehemently, shaking the tops of the leafy trees that circled threatening that emplacement.

   The nocturnal birds that hovered in the strongest branches of the trees and watched the rhythmic sound of that interminable call, began to hoot, adding to the splash of rain and the sound of the blizzard.

   The unexpected flashes ripped through the night sky, giving a different hue to the night as they played with their shadows; The thunder added to the concert given by Nature in that hidden piece of land.

   Lightning struck one of the gigantic trees, cracking one of its branches with a flash and a crash..

   This branch, allied in secret with the gravity force, took the right path to pounce on the roof and the walls of that construction, demolishing part of its structure.

   The water and the wind now entered with pleasure inside, trying to extinguish the insistent call of that gadget.

   One of the birds made its way to the open hut at the same time as the wind managed to precipitate the telephone from that sober wooden table to the wet floor.

   The bird landed very close to the off-hook phone; The gleam of the black unplugged headset was reflected in his great pupil; Curiously he drew closer, and nodding his head slightly to one side and the other trying to understand, he put one of his ears on the silent device.

   The prolonged and continuous beep of the device reverberated in the head of the bird before resuming flight hooting.

   The sudden cessation of the storm made it clear that the phone stopped ringing at seven o'clock in the morning, with the sunbeams of a new dawn caressing that virgin forest.

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awesome post @dresden
i like it

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Thanks man! I'm happy you've liked it.