After a while it was always the same – reporters, witnesses, police outside the hotel. Same words repeated, same pictures. He switched channels: a black and white, childhood world. He heard the murmur of Julia’s voice in the next room. The embassy hot line again. He squeezed his eyes.
Then she was with him, staring at the screen, trying to make sense of it. Hastily, he switched back to the hostage crisis. ‘Anything new?’
She shook her head and turned away, defeated. The knot of anguish tightened in his chest. Oh, for the bugles, the thundering hooves, unstoppable.
Many thanks to Matt for hosting the Flash Fiction Foray. This week’s prompt was Stop The Cavalry, by Jona Lewie.