Hello ! Guess where I’m calling you ?

Phone boxes photographs

Fast disappearing, the phone box is a magical place where one can outspace (where are you when you call ?) and outtime oneself (Hi, that’s me... I’m missing you). Yet one will find a phone box next corner and time dies out once the phone card’s used up.

It’s a glass place where one cuts oneself off, a last confessional where all will be said, where one travels and burst out, where one smokes and cries and expects far but familiar voices.

Raining night, in town or on a country road, a car comes near and drives away, and then you hear your own steps, you open the door, cold tabacco smell, wait for a tone and dial.