A Call from the Future

You’re walking home late when you spot an old flip phone on a park bench. Dead.

Dusty. Definitely from the early 2000s. Something tells you to take it,

so you slip it into your pocket. Back in your room, around midnight, the screen suddenly

lights up. One missed call. Caller ID: “Your Future Self.” Heart racing,

you hit redial. The line clicks. Static. Then—your own voice whispers:

“Don’t open the door tonight.” The call ends. You laugh nervously, but then… a knock.

Soft at first. Then louder. Louder. The phone buzzes again.

This time the screen reads: “Too late.”