“Delays, delays.why is everything put on ice?”
At 3AM the President’s voice echoed through empty corridors. Face distorted; no longer orange; lighthouse puce.
Footsteps rushing behind.
‘Sir, I thought you were asleep.’
‘I need my phone, I need to tweet.’
‘Sir, your phone needed a security upgrade.’
The senior adviser knew that he was treading on thin ice.
After the news had broken he had confiscated the device in the interest of national security.
Frustrated the president roared.
‘Give me the codes!’
Relieved the adviser smiled. Sometimes a third world war can be the least harmful option.
Joining a little later than normally This prompt inspired me to use a few sayings regarding ice.
Friday Fictioneers is a blogging community where we write fiction in hundred words or so. Every week Rochelle selects an image and we all gather to write for this.
February 9, 2017