Stress and Sunshine
By Casey Douglass
as part of #fridayflash
‘You’ll be okay
until I pop in again Mr Oakes?’
‘Yes yes of course.
You don’t need to come as often as you do Mrs Smith.’
‘You know it’s part
of your bail conditions...’
‘So you keep
reminding me!’
‘Be good Mr Oakes.’
He watched the door
slide shut behind her with a hiss. Meddling old crone. Sixty one
years under her belt and she spent the whole lot of it meddling in
other people’s affairs.
The phone began to
ring. He reached out from the comfy chair, moved his arm over the
mints and daily paper. Lifted the receiver.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, our records
indicate that you could be entitled government funded-
‘I’m not
interested.’
‘-solar panels
installed by our specialists-’
‘No thank you!’
‘-based in the UK!’
‘Piss off!’
He slammed the receiver
down.
‘You look a bit
flushed today Mr Oakes!’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You aren’t over
doing it are you?’
‘Me? Perish the
thought!’
‘No schemes? No
plans? You know it’s-’
‘Against the terms of
my bail! Yes I know!’
‘No need to snap Mr
Oakes.’
‘Then don’t treat
me like a simpleton!’
He watched her bustle
around straightening this and that. It was strange as his room was to
the minimalist style. He marvelled that she found anything to do. His
eyes began to droop as he watched her leave for the day.
The shrill of the phone
woke him from a peaceful slumber.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, our records
indicate that you could be entitled to-’
‘I won’t tell you
again! Bugger off!’
‘-panels installed-’
‘Are you deaf?’
‘-in the UK!’
‘Rarrrgh!’
The phone cracked as it
hit the other side of the room.
The trembling old man
threw aside his leg blanket and stood on his wiggling legs. His teeth
gritted, he shuffled across to the large curtains covering the floor
to ceiling windows. Taking a handful of the velvet fabric, he heaved
to the left, dragging them until a satisfactory gap split the
darkness. He moved to the glass, pressing his face to it and looking
down.
A large and rusted
metal aperture split the ground of the island, the sea glimmering at
the far edges of his vision, the volcano looming ahead belching out
small parps of black smoke. Large loading equipment stood idle,
automated defence drones swinging from their chains in the breeze.
‘To hell with it
all!’
A wrinkly hand smacked
the glass. He walked back across the room with increased assurance,
parts of his body activating that hadn’t for years. He clutched at
the phone and jabbed in a number.
‘It’s me...Yes I
know...Bugger all that!...Assemble the teams, I’m activating the
base again!...Yes now!...We will begin Project
Darkness...Details?...We are going to blot out the sun!’