tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320131690292314651.post4487276909178478708..comments2024-02-13T13:54:25.645+01:00Comments on Finding Clarity: Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 236Miranda Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11166000575283710451noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320131690292314651.post-82989514788372477062022-03-30T13:02:32.026+02:002022-03-30T13:02:32.026+02:00Gosh, let's hope that doesn't become a rea...Gosh, let's hope that doesn't become a reality! Thanks for joining. Miranda Katehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11166000575283710451noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7320131690292314651.post-56864275029589231212022-01-26T23:42:26.477+01:002022-01-26T23:42:26.477+01:00The tunnel to the left loomed large. I could feel ...The tunnel to the left loomed large. I could feel the chill of its darkness as I watched it, ambiguous and formless. Then the light on the platform dimmed again and the rumbling resumed.<br /><br />It had been twenty hours since their last attack. The greys had been beaten back, their numbers depleted by the resistance of the few of us who’d retreated here, seeking a place to shelter. It had seemed like a snapshot from history, its waiting room unspoiled. There’d even been a row of vending machines, their front panels intact, their stores of chocolate and biscuits undisturbed. Hannah had been the first one to break through the glass, the familiar sound of falling shards stirring memories of the first days after the fall, the country growing dark when the power grid failed. We’d thought it was just a hiccough then, that our society would recover.<br /><br />It had been wishful thinking that had kept us going back then.<br /><br />Susan was eating chocolate, her jaws working at a bar she’d removed from one of the frozen spirals that would never turn again. Jacob was raiding another cabinet, cramming his backpack with fruited cereal bars and dusty bottles of water. Harris was breaking into the third machine, liberating mundane essentials like plastic combs, cylindrical batteries and packets of condoms. <br /><br />I was scanning the tunnel’s dark shadow, willing it to remain undisturbed. There was a rail running between the tracks as it disappeared, splashes of paint marking it as dangerous. The hum of the power that had energised it would never return. The 10:32 from Basingstoke would be delayed indefinitely, the train and its carriages marooned in a siding far from the city. We had a more pedestrian lifestyle nowadays, although we rarely walked while we were still able to run.<br /><br />Mark A Morrishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00855198804375011390noreply@blogger.com