“There are some maniacs out there tonight.” Stewart glanced towards the television screens before taking his seat in the security room.
“Same as every night.” Bob got out of his chair and pointed towards the mugs. “Usual welcome cuppa tea, mate?”
“Sounds great to me. Tell you, it is absolute chaos on the roads outside, so I am expecting a busy night for us.”
“Maybe I should put some whiskey in them,” Bob commented with a grin. The two security guards laughed and then Bob walked into the kitchen area to sort out the drinks.
He was humming a tune to himself while he waited for the kettle to boil. He was rummaging around to try and find some biscuits when he heard Stewart cry out in alarm.
In a flash, he was ready to start work and had even grabbed the phone ready to call the emergency services if there was a crash. “Is it a code 1?”
“Stewart?” He sprinted into the next room to find Stewart staring at the screens with a look of deathly pallor. “What’s going on?”
“There was… There was a blinding light… Aliens have come!”
“I’ll go and get that whiskey.”
Written for flash fiction for the purposeful practitioner