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garrattj

Cobourg

Member Since 2010

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Monday Apr 02, 2012

Apr 2, 2012
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Five-Minute fiction - 0027-00:32

the room and Thrope balked at the thought of being trapped in the small office with him.

The Courtyard, as the building was called, or had been called, was of a previous generation. A building cramped, and made of the cheapest materials. The fact that it was still standing was a testament to the hard work of individual contractors who had poured their souls to keep the building from falling down. It seemed a very unceremonious place to receive the President of the Union, one of the most powerful men in the universe.

Sir, I mean Your Honour, pardon me Mister President, Thrope said as he stood up and extended his hand.

He had expected the limb to be engulfed by an immense bearlike paw but the hand proffered was dainty by comparison to Thropes scarred and calloused fingers. But the grip was firm and Thrope suspected the pressure betrayed the presence of some cybernetic reinforcement. It was all the rage, or had been. People subjected their bodies to all manner of

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