• the_novel_idealist

16 October 2020 - 15 Minute Fiction Friday

The Foreign Secretary began to pull at the restraints binding his arms and legs to the chair in the centre of the room.

Their new prisoner had been left to facilitate himself with his new situation in complete solitude for three days, with only brief feeding and toiletry breaks reprieving him from the silent darkness.

His face looked fraught, tired from his hours of shouting for news of his family’s safety, and his body language betrayed whatever demeanour of defiance he might have tried to exhibit, as he struggled to sit up straight at the sound of Peter’s voice.