What if one ring from a forgotten world pulled you into a story you were never meant to survive?
Writer’s Prompt
Josh blinked twice, hoping the rotary phone on his nightstand would vanish like a bad dream—but it rang again.
He stared at the antique device, its dull beige casing out of place in his modern apartment. His iPhone was gone. The rotary phone rang a third time, louder, as if demanding his attention. Against every instinct yelling don’t, he lifted the receiver.
“Is this Phillip Marlow, detective?” a gravelly voice asked.
Before Josh could deny it, the room rippled like heat rising from asphalt. The walls dissolved into shadows, cigarette smoke curled from nowhere, and neon reflections flickered across rain-soaked pavement. He wasn’t in his bedroom anymore. He was standing in a dimly lit alleyway, a fedora tilted on his head, trench coat brushing his knees, a revolver weighing down his pocket.
A sedan idled at the curb, headlights slicing through the darkness. A woman in a black dress stepped out, her voice trembling.
“Detective Marlow… they know you’re here.”
Josh swallowed hard. This wasn’t VR. This wasn’t sleep. This was Chandler’s world—and the danger was real enough to smell the gun oil.
Reader Question
If you were transported into a classic noir story against your will, what’s the first move you’d make to survive the night?