Mama Kat Thursday: Enough
Today's Mama Kat is brief fiction based using the word "enough."
Enough
by B Nickerson
He waited until dark to approach the small brick house and knock tentatively on the door. This was his last hope.
He winced as the porch light blinked on and she opened the door the width of the security chain to peer out.
He wasn't sure she'd even recognize him. He had a beard now and wore a slouchy hat to help conceal his face. They used to work together a few years back in the same office, both journalists. They'd been friendly co-workers back then---before the Purge.
He hated to involve her, but he just had no where else to turn.
Her eyes widened with recognition. "Clay?"
He nodded. "Can I come in?"
She unlatched the door chain and widened the door so he could walk in.
Clay quickly scanned the living room. The windows had blinds, but a lamp was on. "Would you mind turning off that lamp?" he asked.
She threw him a perplexed look as she switched it off.
That put them in the dark with only faint moonlight filtering in through the blinds.
Clay felt a little safer. "Thanks, Val," he sighed.
"What's this about?" she asked
"They say I'm a traitor," he replied. "Maybe I am."
He'd done what wasn't allowed anymore. During the Purge, journalism as a whole had become banned and a government agency replaced the free press, passing out only "relevant" information to the public.
A few, like himself had gone underground to try and still make a difference.
He'd done what wasn't allowed anymore. During the Purge, journalism as a whole had become banned and a government agency replaced the free press, passing out only "relevant" information to the public.
A few, like himself had gone underground to try and still make a difference.
"What did you do?" she hissed accusingly.
"I did what I had to do. I hacked the government stream with the facts. People need to know what's really going on!"
Val held up her palm. "Enough," then moved to the door, pulling it open. "Get out. It's enough to risk you own life. Don't risk mine, too."
He obeyed, the door clicking quietly closed behind him. He pulled his hat further down on his head, then peered up and down the street before walking to his car he'd parked two houses away.
As he drove away, he didn't notice the lights on a van a block behind him come on.
Thanks for Visiting!
(Photo from Pixabay. Writers prompt was the words, "They say I'm a traitor. Maybe I am. I did what I had to do.")
Comments
Well done!
Post a Comment
Thanks for leaving a comment!