Vincent Preece’s treasure is other peoples’ junk. Rooting around second-hand shops is his top hobby, yet times have changed over the years. Things have become too clean, too orderly, without that original layer of grease. Still, car boot sales still manage to get it right. and Vincent lands the jackpot when he discovers an old mobile phone, one that doesn’t seem normal. Soon enough, a call comes through, and his life will never be the same.
(WARNING: This review contains minor spoilers.)
Whilst being short in length at less than a hundred pages, this well-crafted story constructed an air of intrigue that built up until its shocking conclusion. The introduction of Vincent Preece – a man with a lucrative history in the mobile phone industry – was all rather ordinary, yet there was something lurking just beneath the surface. Layer after layer of Vincent’s history was thus peeled away over the course of the plot, revealing the events that led to his eventual misery, yet something didn’t add up. I think it was Vincent’s dialogue that struck me as odd, like he wasn’t entirely in his right mind. I won’t say too much; I’m already treading on spoiler territory and, honestly, it’s best to experience it first-hand.
I enjoyed the mystery surrounding the object that became an influential presence in Vincent’s life. What started as mild escalated a large and horrifying amount, also bringing with it the question of do we really know the people we surround ourselves with, or do we even know ourselves. I felt discomfort in the answer this tale offered – its bleakness concerning human nature held an ugly truth that most choose to ignore in reality. There may have been a lack of blood and guts, but horror comes in all flavours, and I personally find these brooding and ominous stories a lot more thought provoking.
In conclusion: Call Drops was a grim story that wormed its way into my mind. Despite Leonard’s writing style being not altogether my thing, I couldn’t help but become captivated by Vincent’s obsession with the unknown. I’m glad I decided to fit this one into my monthly schedule!
Vincent had settled into despair like you’d settle into a favourite armchair after an especially hard day. The difference was that particular seat was apt to enfold you. Wrap you up and then squeeze the breath from your lungs.
© Red Lace 2019
Reblogged this on and commented:
I totally agree, Vincent’s words, yes, something was so off with him. I read this quite quick, I feel that this deserves another read from me.
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