So in the same week as my ill-fated writing prompt, Roger Shipp was starting his own over at his blog. This one includes a first line and a picture. Here’s my stab at it.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time?”
Nicolas nodded. “Yeah…”
“And the string runs between here and Chicago?”
“Yeah.” His eyes were open wide, joy dancing in the depths of those darkened cavities.
“And they look like light bulbs?”
Once again. “Yeah.”
Farriday rubbed a hand against his forehead. How long had he put up with this? How long had they been maintaining the code? “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen when we flip that switch? These people’s lives will never be the same. You’re willing to do that?”
To Nicolas’s credit, he didn’t churn out another monosyllabic reply. Instead, he watched his companion, eyes glittering. He stuck out his tongue and dabbed it against the his top lip. Farriday had seen that look before. Nicolas chafed against their directive. He wanted to feel like he was a part of something that was going somewhere.
He wanted to not feel abandoned.
To his own surprise, Farriday realized he felt a similar thrill of anticipation. In the long run, would it really matter?
Farriday placed a hand on the switch. “Okay then. Let’s do it.”
He flipped the switch and the world changed.