The Refusal of the Call

“Can I do this?” Charlee whispered to themselves. They searched through the fogged window for an answer. They released the pressure on the door and heard the latch clunk back into place and took one small step back. The steam of the window began to dissipate. Then they saw it again. A car drove by the city street with a distinct attribute. Charlee pressed against the glass to follow it, but it was gone. But just beyond the car, Charlee saw it. A phone booth with the same quality. It was red. A speck of color in a sea of nothingness. They pressed their hand against the bar again feeling the same familiar thud of their heart pressing against their chest. Urging them forward.