When it rings - Ingela Norlin

( Translation Frisco Ramirez )

When it rings I throw the telephone receiver on the floor. I let it lie there,
hard against my ugly browngrey plastic floor. After a while it gets silent at
the other end of the line. Then I hang up.

   If it rings again I throw the reciever on the floor again. After the fifth
call only rattle is heard from the tranciever, you can't hear what they're
saying, the ones calling.

   I can't call, the signals don't reach out. Then I take my phone and go to
a local phone store and tell them that my phone isn't functioning. They fix
the reciever and tell I must have dropped it on the floor. I deny that.

   When I've had my phone fixed seven times they yell at me at the store
and tell me that I must have broken my phone on purpose.

   I don't deny that.

   I say that I throw the reciever on the floor each time it rings. I tell
them that when I've done that a few times the reciever rattles and I can't
call out. Some times I can call out.

   Then they become silent at the store and tell me I must be mad.

   I don't deny that either.

   I Just ask if I have the right to do whatever I want with my phone. If
I want to call I do it, if I on the other hand want to throw the reciever
on the floor then i have the right to do that too.

   They don't deny that but tel me that they're not going to fix my phone
again.

   I force them. Under threat.

   Now they've turned off my phone.

   I'm out of the phonebook.

   There are phonecabins. But noone calls me to the, how am I then supposed
to brake the recievers?

   I break the windows of the cabins instead. Then it clinks. Unfortunately
I can only do that once. It was more fun with the telephones, them I could
break sevral times. They were kind off more durable.