Write a story about an unexpected telephone calls (word limit 450)
Answers
Answer:
HOPE IT HELPS....IDK IF I AM ON LIMIT THOUGH....BUT U CAN SHORTEN IN....PLS MARK ME BRAINIEST
Explanation:
On the last day of February, at nine minutes past seven in the morning, I received a phone call from myself.
I, the recipient of the call, had a mouthful of toothpaste and could only produce a handful of incoherent sounds.
“It’s really me,” said I, the caller. “I mean, you. Oh, this is confusing from this end as well as yours.”
I spat out my toothpaste. “What?”
“Listen, it’ll be all right. You’ve got about five minutes until it happens. Quarter past seven exactly. Get dressed and pack a bag — not the suitcase.”
“What? What’s going on?”
“There’ll be some travel involved.”
“But I can’t—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go. I mean, you’ll go eventually.” The other me sighed and cleared their throat. “You’ll have three days. Don’t waste them.”
And without another word, the me who was calling hung up. I stared at my phone. I stared at myself in the mirror. Black circles under my eyes. Hair that hung in lank curtains. A dribble of toothpaste down my chin. Wrinkled pyjamas. Everything about me was grey and washed out and tired, too tired to think about what was going on. I needed to shower, wash my hair, grab that suitcase and leave.
Five minutes. I could afford to wait five minutes. I flung on a pair of faded jeans and an oversize sweater, stuffed some essentials into a duffel bag and sat down by the kitchen window while I waited for the clock on the microwave to change to 7:15.
The outside world was just waking up. A handful of early risers were already out, walking to work maybe, hunched down while the wind tugged at their coats and the drizzle blurred their outlines. I wanted coffee, but I didn’t think had enough time to make any.
Then the pattering of the rain on my window stopped. Out on the street, the pedestrians froze and faded away. A cat slunk backwards around a corner. I held on to my bag with one hand and the kitchen counter with the other. Around me, the world turned black and silent.
A moment later, I became aware of the sound of my breathing. I was still gripping the kitchen counter, but it looked different. The piles of dirty dishes were gone. Instead of grey morning light, the sky outside blazed with orange and pink. The clock on the microwave showed 17:58.
I nearly dropped the bag.
This couldn’t be right. But outside, the sun was setting, and a glance at my phone confirmed that it was indeed six o’clock in the evening. It was also three days ago.
You’ll have three days. Don’t waste them.
I knew exactly what to do.
***
I left the apartment and took a roundabout route to the station to avoid bumping into myself. It was rush hour, and I doubted I would have been able to spot myself if I tried. I elbowed my way through the crowd and headed to the ticket office, where I paid an outrageous amount of money for the last bunk on the night train south. It didn’t matter.