Open Line in the Dark

I slipped back inside through the lower sill, letting the heavy velvet curtains swallow my silhouette. On the dark mahogany surface beside me, an old cordless telephone rested silently in its charging dock. I froze, measuring the distance in total stillness. Three seconds of theatrical patience... then a sudden lunge. With both gloved hands, I shoved the heavy handset until it popped loose from the cradle with a hollow plastic clatter. A sharp beep sliced through the gloom, followed by the steady, droning buzz of a live dial tone. Leaning close, I tilted my mask over the tiny speaker grille, letting the hollow electronic hum fill the dark.