Harold glanced around the room at the blank faces staring back at him. Moments ago, the war room had been full of harried activity and shouted commands, now it was eerily silent.
“Status?” Harold barked out.
The room hesitated in uneasy silence. “Well, sir, we think the system’s malfunctioned.”
Harold knew it was worse than that. His training had taught him in uncertain situations to start with the simple facts. Fact one; he was the general in charge. Fact two; they were fighting a war. Fact three; he couldn’t for the life of him remember why.
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Claire Jones
On a journey to find the right words.
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The Unbroken Key
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Mara loved to watch them bend and blow into strange shapes, she sat on a chaise in the corner of the small unit she shared with her father. The archives didn’t usually provide a residence for families but they’d made an exception. Mara still wasn’t sure why. She played with her hair, humming quietly to herself, her legs curled gracelessly beneath her as she stared out the window when suddenly, something caught her eye. A small shape passing through the clouds, she leaned forward squinting. It almost looked like a missive. But who would be sending one at this time of night? The archives had enacted a strict curfew after numerous noise complaints. She tracked the folded piece of paper as it flew across the pink sky, directly towards the administration office. Before she could muse any further on the origin or purpose of the missive she was distracted by a noise behind her. She turned rapidly, almost falling from her chair and saw her father standing in the doorway with an amused smile.
By Claire Jones3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Another of your short stories that I would love to see expanded upon, great plot idea!
striking