The short story "A Faint Voice."

"A fuzzy voice."

.....I've been standing on the corner of Marines Street for decades.

The sky was clear that day. The power poles were not yet full of messy strings like they are today.

The pavement floor is still not cracked.

And she was the first to raise my ear to the ear - still didn't have a son who was now old enough to bow down, press my phone in front of a convenience store.

That day I was installed with the sound of the city's breath, the workers wiped my face clear before walking away.

Since that day, I've never moved, never moved.

But I remember every sound that came through...

Even a soft whisper from a shaking hand during the first call.

Even the giggling laughter of teenage boys flirting.

Despite the snapping of a man who was caught lying by his boyfriend.

Even sobbing at 10 p.m. that she said goodbye to someone across the province.

I remember every voice

Because that's my job. - Listen. And connect.

I don't retaliate. I don't talk.

But I was there...Always.

The moment people wait in line to use me, it's warm.

A schoolboy in a high school uniform uses the last three coin fragments to call his father not to pick up. He will go to the library with a friend.

The old man called his daughter who went to study abroad and cried quietly.

The fruit vendor used me to call the market owner - let's postpone the rent for another week.

Everything, every voice, I kept.

I've never had a heart, but I think I understand humans... more than many people have a heart.

But then the cell phone walked into their lives.

At first, there were still some people who frequented me.

But I'm starting to hear a new kind of voice.

The voice of a passerby with the voice of a chat app.

The sound of swiping the screen instead of rotating the coin.

The laughter of a teenager who never even knew me.

I was slowly dumped - not suddenly.

But it hurts more because I slowly disappear from their memory.

Become just a rowdy object.

The glass began to crack.

The phone line is broken.

No one drops coins.

But I still am.

I'm still... listening.

Even without a voice to listen to.

I've heard a quote from a young boy calling a boyfriend.

"Don't be afraid... one day we'll change, but this moment is real."

At the time, I knew

Everything in this world has never been stable.

Even people's hearts

Even love.

Even I... thought I was the lifeline of many people.

I don't know how long before I'm taken off.

Turned into scrap or a museum show.

No one knows I've ever stood here.

Like an old lover who fell from memory.

Only a thin fraction of the heart remains.

But at least...

I've also heard love.

I was there... the day you cried.

And I never walked away.

Some sounds... even no one can hear anymore.

But it's always where it used to happen.

............

"Synthetic man."