Pro Patria Mori

I found a new (to me) prompt, called Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner, which prompted a write inspired by the image above. The steps inspired me to take part.

Adjusting my helmet, my wandering eyes settle on the makeshift wooden ladder before me. As detail reveals itself, it is apparent that, of all the haphazard incompetence around here, this step has been made by a craftsman. Focussing on the perfect dovetail joint straight ahead, I think of the care which has gone into this piece. I hope he’s safe.

I can’t help but reflect on the irony of finding this superb carpentry, here. Perish the thought that someone should fall and break their neck on the way over.

To my right, I see a movement. An officer, in full dress uniform for the occasion, raises his right hand over his head. In his left, he carries a pocket watch, and is immersed as the seconds slip by.

All at once, the deafening barrage around us stops, to be replaced by the piercing shriek of police whistles. From far to the left, far to the right, and from Captain Spencer himself. Like an executioner, he jerks his free hand down, in a rapid, deliberate movement.

The whistles stop. For a brief moment, there is silence.



    • Tou know when you see the image and it hits you straight away? This one spilled out in five minutes! I wish they were all like that.

      Espie poiinted out that he, as an American, didn’t really get it. I hope you did.

      Liked by 1 person

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