Fractal Realities: A Drink in the Dark
Matthews woke up, head flat against his desk, arm curled around a bottle of apricot brandy. It was the scream of the work whistle that did it.
Moving nothing but a shaking hand, as if it were the spider-hourglass emblem of his Ministry of Spies badge, he searched his desk for the cup that must have accompanied the bottle last night. Despite moving with deliberate slowness, when his fingertips brushed against the smooth porcelain, it slid away from him and off the edge with a crash.
Drunk still, then.
Forget the cup and drink straight from the bottle? Or go back to sleep? He tended to sleep a lot. At least these days. Ever since Myerson had started rerouting all of Matthews's reports to himself. It had been a power play and an obvious one at that. Yet he had allowed it, content to let the field of responsibility shift naturally. He was old and probably should retire but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not just yet. In case his knowledge was needed to combat a threat to the Empire, foreign or domestic.
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (0 so far!)
Inspired by (sequel to):
Social situations were fraught with problems that invariably led to people getting hurt and so Bob w…Fractal Realities: Relief from the Tedium
- Published 2 years ago.
- Story viewed 14 times and rated 0 times.
All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?