Two Weeks Later...
There is a phone booth in Minneapolis.
When he saw it he had to look at the world through the glass. It was an unexplainable sensation and it was probably crazy to stay out in the rain longer than necessary. He wanted to see if the world looked any different. In a way it did, and it wasn't because of the nasty scratches in the metal or the profane words scribbled by kids on the glass. His vision was more focused.
Focused on her.
He could picture her dancing in the rain with an elegant dress and her hair loose. And that smile. He could picture a smile that the sun bounced off of. Her nose wouldn't be high in the air like a prissy show dog. For the first time in her life she would be on the same ground as someone else.
He picked up the phone and dialed quickly with a smile on his face, a memory of her.
"Pick up, Michelle…"
But the phone rang.