Cold War -- Fiction; Comets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Spouses -- Fiction
"I'm sorry. The Premier has left on an extended vacation."
"I'm sorry too," the President said, and cradled the phone.
* * * * *
Dee Allison sat tight-eyed staring out the window. Her handkerchief was
balled into a wad in her hand. "He's so cruel--so thoughtless," she
said.
Her mother regarded her with resignation. "What do you want me to tell
him when he comes?"
"Tell him I never want to see him again!"
* * * * *
Frank Allison got as far as the lobby of the building in which Mrs.
Gregg, Dee's mother, lived. He raised his hand and his finger was
inches from the bell. Then he doubled the hand into a fist and thrust
it into his pocket. "The hell with it!" he growled. "If she wants to
see me, she knows where to find me." He turned and strode out of the
building.
* * * * *
The President of the United States had sat staring into space for a
long time. A sound caused him to look up. His secretary stood by the
desk. "Yes?"
"This new statement you just prepared, Mr. President. I'm not entirely
clear on how you plan to use it--what should I do?"
"Tear it up," the President said wearily, "and throw it in the
wastebasket. Things are now back to normal."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account