Flowers From 1970 (Chuuya ver.)

Chapter 1.1

Y/N walked up to the steps of his house, Keys in hand and a dark look on her face. The neighborhood had been quiet except for the occasional passing car, Which did not help her ongoing battl with isolation and loneliness. The quieter it was, The louder her thoughts were, And so as she enterred her empty home which housed a quiet so large a drop of a pin would be highly audible, Her head filled with a mass of concepts.

She trudged her way up to her room, Carrying her jacket in he rhand as he threw her keys  onto the desk and collapsed on her bed, She waited a while, Her mind the only thing keeping her company. All she had were regrets and scenarios of brighter futures and she made better decisions in the past.

Suddenly, She heard a ring come from the other side of the room. It wasn't coming from her cellphone, But the vintage telephone she had found in her house when she first moved in. She had spent weeks trying to repair it but eventually she gave up, But now it seemed to be fully operational.

She ran to the phone and awnsered, "Hello?"

"Hey punk, Can you believe Govenor Francis had a heart attack and died today? That's insane." A man on the other end of the phone mumbled into the phone.

"I'm sorry, But you must have the wrong number... Wait, Today?" Y/N Asked, Confused.

"Oh well sorry then, But yeah today. It's all over the papers." The voice awnsered, Not bothering to end the call even though it was the wrong number.

Y/N raised her brow, "Are we talking about Governor Francis of Minnesota?"

"Yeah, Who else." The man awnsered, His shrug visible in his tone.

"Francis died over fifty years ago, Though?" Y/N was convinced she was talking to either someone very uneducated or downright insane.

The man laughed loudly. "I don't know about you, But i don't remember Francis dying in 1920."

"Everyone knows it happened in 1970, Then his right hand man Poe was almost assassinated the next day." Y/N told the man. She did not know why she was so hellbent on correcting a stranger, But she did so nonetheless.

"Poe? Everybody loves Poe. He's fine and giving a speech right now, Listen." The phone sounded like it was moving, And suddenly put up to a radio. The radio was barely audible, But Y/N could make out words like "This is a tragic loss" and such. It definitely sounded like Poe. Y/N figured she was talking to a crazy person and hung up.

She walked over to her bed, thought about the phone call for no more than 3 minutes before falling asleep.