the one call, answered by dead air

The show admits one caller a night, its single channel for anything like two-way contact, and the night's caller reaches out with something almost tender, the observation that the moon never turns its face away. Her answer is not an answer: she makes no direct reply and signs off into dead air. Even the one aperture for a real exchange closes into silence, the broadcast a voice that speaks to thousands and takes, at most, a single call it does not respond to.