This is my entry for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.
The grounds crew tied off the rope around the trunk of the tree.
“So, they actually tried to batter down the door with this?” laughed the grizzled guy finishing the knot.
“Yeah, it got pretty crazy,” the crew captain said while he carried the other rope end to a small bobcat tractor nearby. “After we get this, grab Sam and Mike and start whitewashing the south end. That’s where they hit with the Molotov cocktails.”
“And he stayed here to watch it all?” another crew member asked.
“Yeah, security tried to get him out, but he just laughed and watched from the window.”
“He’s nuts. Hundreds storm the place, want him dead, and he just laughs it off. Nuts.”
“He might be, but this is the what? Tenth attempt? Guy’s untouchable.”
The crew laughs. I watch as the captain drives away, dragging the tree. The rest head in different directions to begin the clean-up. Security roams the grounds. All focused outside the walls.
I slip inside. No one is untouchable. Not to me.
I’m right at 173 – I seem to hover around here. Need to work on my brevity better. And although the events of today may play in the back of my mind, they did not influence my story this time. Honest!
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