Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 305
A Tricky snippet, which I may or may not use. It worked perfectly for where I am at. The last time I wrote a Tricky piece for Mid-Week Flash was Week 302.
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Suspicions
Tricky waited nervously.She had no idea what was going to happen next and to put it mildly wasterrified. No one seemed to know anything about what others might know andwhether their knowing influenced another knowing, and if no one knew who knew,then what? A tangled web that Adric had spun, and had his father caught up in,though she knew The Baron could get himself out of it easily enough. Oh how shehated all this.
She paced the empty ancient room, which hadonce been furnished by the impossibly rich, the overlords of the time beforethe shift. Just this bare shell showed their opulence: the stonework on thefloor, the arches on the walls, even the vaulted ceiling. But now it was just ananti-chamber to a larger system of rooms that made up this mangled palace. Noone quite understood how the different building and landmasses had been throwntogether, and why ones like these survived and remained intact, while othershad fallen and crumbled. No one knew anymore, too much had been lost, theycould only shore up what they had and maintain it.
Tricky looked out of the windows, which hadglass intact though cracked in places – a luxury that didn’t exist anymore. Shewatched the river water flowing just a few feet below. How it hadn’t infectedthis place with its dampness she didn’t know. They had all sorts of tricks tostop it back then and clearly someone still knew how otherwise this room wouldbe covered in mould. She’d seen it in multiple buildings on the outskirts. Itdepended if people valued a particular building, whether they would save it.
Tricky wanted to sniff at those livinghere, how they were the new overlords, but she couldn’t quite. They were tryingto manage so many different aspects all running simultaneously, while trying tokeep people safe, especially from the likes of the network.
Tricky shuddered. She thought the time of politicaland powerful threats were over for the people. The shift had seen the end of it,but here they were again, worrying what someone might be capable of, or mightdo just to gain … what? Control over others? Control of a landmass? What didthey think it offered them? Did they see the work that went into trying to keepit going and safe? But they didn’t care about working and safe, they only caredabout having possessions, about gorging themselves on objects and things thatdidn’t belong to them. She hated them. She felt the rage and frustration ofbeing caught up in their road of destruction. She wanted no part of it, butthey had decided she was the crux of it; they wanted to claim her knowledge andher inherited possessions for their cause. The rancid, corrupt minds ofinflated egos and ugly intentions. She wanted to see them dead.
She heard footsteps outside – hard not toon the echoey stone floors that ran through this place – and took a deep breath.Who would be coming through that door, friend or foe? And would she know thedifference?
