The speaker crackled. The voice continued.
“Eight. Zero. Three. Nine. Four. One. Five. Six. Two. Two. Five. Three. Seven. Four. Six. One. Three. Seven. Nine. Two. Eight. Six. Nine. Two. Zero. Seven. One. Seven. Three. Two. Zero. Nine. Zero. Five. Eight.”
There was a pause. Static filled the room.
Then, “Six. Three. Six. Five. One. Four. Five. Two. Zero. Four. One. Four. Two. Eight. Five. Three. Two. Nine. Zero. One. Three. Zero. Five. Thank you.”
Then, nothing but static.
Jack paled as he switched off the radio. “That’s it,” he said.
“That’s what?” asked Amy.
Other Micro Monday writers:
Pete Lit (our inadvertent founder)
Writers, join the parade. Drop me a line. Get linkage.
One too many times I twisted the gate
When I was crazy I thought you were great
I kept my renditions of you on the wall
Where holiday romance is nothing at all
(via iPod Shuffle)