No Answer

Nettie heard the sound drifting through the chilly air. Deedle-dee-eet-dee-deedle-dee. A snippet of a popular song, tinny and electronic. She glanced around; the stores were all dark. The sound had come from her left, from the small grove of trees planted in orderly rows between the road and the shopping center.

Deedle-dee-eet-dee-deedle-dee.

Nettie stepped cautiously forward. She reached out and touched the bark of the tree that didn't fit the grid, the tree that hadn't been there yesterday.

Deedle-dee-eet-dee-deedle-dee.

The phone glowed beneath the bark, half-embedded in the wood.

Nettie hurried away, rubbing her fingers vigorously on her pants.

Deedle-dee-eet-dee-deedle-dee.