There was a time, not so long ago, when making calls were not used cell phones.
There were no cell phones, the ringing of the "I think about you" or "I'm here, come down," the text message to the mother to say "I came," and even whatsapp conversations, often meaningless and also endless.
The phones there were but only in homes, hey had the wheel and had to wait for it complimented back around before making the other number.
In reality outside the home and on the road you could call. It was done by telephone boxes, for which, at least until the mid 80s, served as the token.
The problem arose when we had to change because no one knew what would last the call. There it was a little to the feeling, depending on the call. Depending on the person. To avoid ending the token at the climax.
It was not the time of ringtones and mobile phones. At that time one entered in the telephone box that seemed confessional and guardians of some secret.
They were containers of distances, whispered loves, families apart.
I have not lived but were different times, the best. Times where those seconds, minutes, hours spent attached to the handset knew excite. The calls had a different flavor. Sweet, like the words of two people apart, with a little bitter aftertaste that due to waiting for the next call.
Not like now that every 3x2 comes a "BIP" that brings with it hearts, TVB, TAT, TV1KDB.
I want a K of that ?? But the simplicity where is it? And the values? Those true and sincere, attributed to everything? Dead. Buried. Like thelephone boxes, which to take me two photos, I was going to buy a plane ticket to London! And the thing I would have liked.
