Blackness enveloped the city.
The power curfew began at midnight. The grid was shutdown.
Homes were silent. Streetlights dark. A flicker of rare candlelight betrayed the restaurant or club that refused to close.
An occasional set of car headlights crept passed, driven by those lucky enough to still have access to the electricity needed to power them.
Beside the river rose two bright towers, the only illumination for miles around. The weapons factory was kept open twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.
A shuttle train deposited the night shift. A fleet of robots fully charged and ready to work. The exhausted day shift departed, taken back to their pods to be re-energised.
As the train left the security monitor didn’t notice the tiny figure who leapt across the tracks.
In the shadows, Alejandro waited. He double-checked the wiring and the fuse on the package.
His death was imminent. His hope was that it would not be in vain.
Tonight, humanity began the fight back.
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE
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