The anthracite telephone rings. He answers it in a monotone. The prisoner, ashen-faced with fear, is brought in and abandoned in front of him.
Everybody knows that no-one leaves the grey zone alive.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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His suit, his eyes, his hair have the nuances of a thunderstorm. The desk behind which he sits is of steel. His pen, a silver ballpoint, is a prize for efficiency on the job. His tenth floor office is grey-walled; the window opens onto pewter skies above and a gravel courtyard below. The safe in the corner is the colour of fog and reeks of gun oil.
The anthracite telephone rings. He answers it in a monotone. The prisoner, ashen-faced with fear, is brought in and abandoned in front of him. Everybody knows that no-one leaves the grey zone alive.
Jenny Logan
30/9/2022 01:41:52 pm
Very atmospheric, Mimi.
Mimi Grouse
30/9/2022 02:26:38 pm
Thank you, Jenny.
Padmini Krishnan
30/9/2022 01:58:13 pm
Amazing descriptions leading to a perfect ending
Mimi Grouse
30/9/2022 02:27:14 pm
Thank you, Padmini.
Jennifer Duncan
30/9/2022 04:11:08 pm
Such a good piece of mood writing. Dramatic ending.
Mimi Grouse
30/9/2022 04:56:57 pm
Thank you, Jennifer. 30/9/2022 04:37:06 pm
The descriptions here are wonderful (as is the story). Love the "nuances of a thunderstorm" line.
Mimi Grouse
30/9/2022 04:57:32 pm
Thank you, Jim.
Tom Baldwin
30/9/2022 09:56:22 pm
That made me shiver. Great story, Mimi.
Mimi Grouse
1/10/2022 05:10:49 am
Thank you, Tom.
Paritosh Chandra Dugar
1/10/2022 12:24:46 pm
A lovely story with a vivid description. Well done, Mimi.
Mimi Grouse
1/10/2022 01:53:18 pm
Thank you, Paritosh.
Sue Clayton
2/10/2022 05:27:41 am
A shroud hangs over this death zone. I feel the prisoner's fear in every grey word.
Mimi Grouse
2/10/2022 05:40:39 am
Thank you, Sue. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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