“Back in the old days, things were different.”
“But how, Grandfather?” the little boy asked.
“I’m getting to that,” the grandfather replied, chuckling to himself. “Back in the old days, things were different. If you wanted to call someone, you had to be at your own house, they had to be at theirs, and you had to dial their phone… and I mean literally dial!”
“Woah,” breathed the children. “Was it really cool, turning a dial?”
“It was a bit slower, but… wait, I believe I have one sitting in the basement! Sit here, don’t let your mother whisk you off to bed, and I shall return, okay?”
He made his way down the stairs, trying to hurry though it hurt him. He looked about, made for a corner, and started shifting boxes.
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The children had come to join him.
“Hello!” he said jovially. “I’m just looking for it, if you could step aside so I can set this down… aha! This is the box, and…”
“And what, Grandfather?” the little girl asks.

“My God…” Grandfather whispers. “It… it can’t be…”