You had desperately needed a change in your life and deciding to pointedly not listen to your therapist about not acting like a depressed teenager and drop everything and run away, you did.

The neighborhood had been quiet except for the occasional passing car, which did not help your ongoing battle with isolation and loneliness.

You see the whole, graduating from college but god help me I’m not going back to my family’s house because that’s the entire reason you went to school again plan hadn’t gone exactly how you wanted.

You packed a bag and found a nice little town to call your own for the time being, the house you found in turn was beautiful.

It had been a week since you moved in, you’d gotten a small job that payed the bills and you had gotten settled into your house. There were two bathrooms in the house, four bedrooms, an office. Honestly it was a big house for being made in 1970 but it was the cheapest house in the market so you bought it.

In that week a man from 1970 gave you a call, you’d assumed you had been talking to a crazy person and hung up but then figured out you’ve got some weird magic time traveling phone.

You’d learned about him, he and his family used to live in the house. Himself, his brothers and his father.

You’d told him a little about yourself in turn, saying how you moved in after college because you needed a place to live.

So you’ve been talking to him, he gets off of work an hour after you do—you had nothing better to do than the math that day—so every day around five o’clock you two would call each other, like right now.

“Tell me more about the future,” Techno asked, leaning against the wall near the red hand print he’d put against the wall the first day they’d talked to see if the house was magic or the phone was, apparently it was the entire house.