Landline Novels & Stories

I'll have the cake later. Just as I'm about to pick Snow up to give him a bath, because I really need some kind of distraction, I hear a phone ring. I frown for a few seconds wondering where that annoying sound is coming from and then I remember, we usually have a house phone, the old type of phone which you can't tell if you have any missed calls. A landline telephone. People rarely call it unless it's a prank or a wrong number. I wonder who that could be. So I rush to it and answer. With the old phone pressed against my ear, I wait to hear a voice.

Photos that will be used on the new beauty products and in one month's time, the brand launch was going to happen and Sarah was going to do another of her many walkway modelling. 🍁🍁🍁 It was the landline telephone that was ringing. Sarah arced her brows and stared intensively at the thing as it rang. It was the first time in a long time that the phone rang, it has always been taken care of but never used. So the surprise on Sarah's face when she heard the thing ring was justified. Sarah was not home alone but Estrellita was back in her room and Sarah was the only one who was close to the landline telephone in the living room.

"First, the external communicatio⁠ns. Our cell​ phones just lost s⁠i​gna⁠l. The landl‌ines are dead." I pull⁠ed my phone from‌ my pocket‌. No Servi⁠ce. "‌Ne‌xt‍, it targets the physical barri‌ers," En⁠zo co‌ntinued, his hand resting on th⁠e grip of his sidearm. Cl‌ank.

Completely empty. That’s when I remembered the crash. The way my phone flew from my hand and vanished into the road. I closed the drawer slowly, and let out a frustrated sigh, trying not to scream. Instead, I reached for the old landline on the nightstand. It looked like something from a decade ago, but I didn’t care. I just needed something that'd connect me to the outside world. I dialed Liam's number. The call didn’t even ring. It cut off immediately.

Fallon The period of peace did not last long. One winter morning, which I thought would pass quietly, I received a call from our local landline. The crimson telephone that hung on our kitchen door rang with a volume so startling I dropped my knit sticks in surprise. My heart immediately hammered; my mind theorized and calculated the number of people who can contact our landline, and why they would. I don’t have a cellphone which makes the landline my main contacting method, but it isn’t often that people have to contact me—Jess Danbury.

"Feels like a year. Probably a few hours." "You're lucky it's not summer. Heat out here'll cook a man in half that time." He gestured toward an old corded phone mounted on the wall near the register. "The phone's right there. Local calls are free, long distance you'll have to reverse the charges or something, this thing's ancient." "Appreciate it." I stood in front of it for a long moment after he stepped back to give me space, my hand hovering over the receiver. Riley's number was the first one that came to my memory, the one number I knew by heart better than my own. And I almost dialed it.

So when the phone rang she knew it was eleven-fourteen, which was not information she needed and which she noted anyway, in the way she noted things lately, with the accumulating precision of someone who was memorizing. She looked at the phone. It was the penthouse landline, a phone she had answered perhaps four times in forty-nine days, which rang rarely, which when it rang was usually something administrative, a building matter, a delivery confirmation, the specific category of calls that came to a landline rather than a mobile because they were about the address rather than the person. She looked at it and felt nothing in par

The buildings all around them seemed derelict too and they were well concealed in a place neither girl had seen before. “Hello, hello?” Linlin was straining to hear the voice on the other end of the phone call but the signal was dropping and breaking the up because of their location. She got no further than being asked what service she needed. She couldn’t hear them and doubted they could hear her either. The phone disconnected by itself as the signal dropped right off and she clenched it in frustration.

It should work. But after a quick search, the concierge shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there’s no card associated with that phone number.”

Jack awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He cleared his throat, and answered “Hello?” There was static on the line and after a long pause, there was a response. He could faintly hear someone through the static, but the voice seemed far away. He repeated a hello, and the voice responded. “Hello? Jack? Can you hear me?” It sounded like Catherine’s voice but she sounded far away still, like maybe she had the phone upside down or was distracted. Maybe it had been a pocket dial? Catherine continued through the breaking and static “Jack. Can’t….talk...long...I’ve been...Jack? Be careful...love you” Before he could respond, the call ended.