Iain Kelly

The polling station was about to close. The queue stretched round the corner, at least five hundred people. Some had been there all day.

‘Technical difficulties’ the returning officer for the district had said on the radio. They weren’t the only one. Across the country there had been reports of similar incidents. It didn’t take a genius to make the connection between those places with strong opposition support and faulty voting equipment.

The noise of a metal shutter closing made everyone look. The election was over, their votes were lost, never to be counted. Their voices had been silenced. There were some angry voices. Some things were thrown. Some battered at the closed shutter.

I pulled my collar up against the freezing wind. A sudden chill ran through me, but it was not caused by the winter temperature.

I walked into the dark night.

This is a response to the #writephoto Prompt: Chill curated over at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo. Click on the link to read other stories inspired by the image.

2 weeks until Christmas, still time to order either (or both!) of my novels for the reader in your life. Perfect if you’re looking for a new action thriller.

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