This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Practice makes perfect. Let me know what you think.
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my invitation. I wanted to check the address. The card was beautifully made on heavy paper, hand-done calligraphy. It read:
You are hereby requested to present yourself to Government House, promptly at 0800 on 07.April. To begin the last job you will ever want or ever need. Dress is business attire. We want to thank you for your interest in working at Government House and Congratulate you on being selected. We look forward to welcoming you.
I looked at the row of brownstones that I stood before. The colour of the houses was dark. The style was ripe with Italianate details. The doorways and windows were surrounded by foliated moulding. There was a richly ornamented frieze at the roof line.
The entire block had been cleared of snow and ice. I was excited. It had been over forty years since the “Colossal War” forced the onset of our Nuclear Winter. People around here hadn’t seen the sun since before the war. It was cold, snow and ice were everywhere; black though, from the soot that blocked the sun.
It had been named “The Colossal War” because they had run out of names for these things. Our leaders had named the First World War, “The Great War.” They had also wasted “War to End All Wars” on that one.
They called WWII “The Good War”.
The tension between Soviet Russia and the United States that existed after that had taken the name “Cold War” which would have been perfect for this one, with its onset of the Nuclear Winter and all, but the name had already been taken so, Colossal War became the chosen moniker. I have forgotten what it feels like to be warm or what fresh produce tastes like.
Anyway, I stood up straight and strode to the front steps where I marched up to the door with a purpose. I turned the knob and pushed, but the door was locked. I spied a bell and pressed the button. A tinny feminine voice came out of a small speaker beneath the bell.
“Yes? May I help you?”
“Uhm,” I removed my invitation again and held it up towards the door.
The disembodied voice spoke again, “There’s a camera over the door. If you are trying to show me that piece of paper please hold it up so the camera can see it.”
“A bit closer, if you could,” the voice scolded, “the printing is quite small and I can’t make out what it says.”
I raised the invitation up over my head.
“Just a little higher, please. I still can’t quite make it out.”
I stood on my tip toes and stretched my arms upward.
“Oh!” the woman exclaimed, “You’re Mr Dolan, aren’t you? Please come in. Come in, please.”
There was a sharp buzz and the door popped open, swinging in just slightly.
I pushed and found myself in an entryway or a foyer of some sort but there was only one way deeper into the house. Closing the front door, I made my way into the next room and found an officious looking young woman with mousy brown hair, and a white blouse. She stood and came around her desk. Her outfit was completed with a dark blue or black ‘A-Line’ skirt that hung at her knees and her feet were covered with unadorned dark coloured flat dress shoes. She was all business.
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t recognize you, Mr Dolan,” she apologized.
I waved it off, “It’s OK,” I said, “Don’t worry about it.”
We stared at one another for a few seconds before she broke the spell, “Please, have a seat, Mr Dolan. May I get you a coffee?”
“You have coffee?” I asked, and she nodded. “Then, yes, please. Just black, no sugar.”
She turned on her toe and scurried down a dark hall, I assumed that she was going to the kitchen.
When she was gone I looked at the nameplate that sat front and centre on her desk.
‘Miss Chalmers’ it read.
This week’s prompts are:
- He was a lout
- she kept snakes
- of course we used to tell them that
Go ahead and dive in, set your imagination free!
Ready, Set, Go – you have 25 minutes, but if that is not possible, take as long as you need and, have fun!