Photo © Sascha Darlington
People came from everywhere in order to see the alien pods that had landed in a garden of some stately home. Nobody was brave enough to go to the doors that seemed to exist in front of every one.
Lord Banbury turned round to his advisers. “I told you this was going to work. The visitor numbers are higher than they have ever been and I think we can safely say we are out of debt now.”
In a shared uneasiness a member of the team was pushed forward to speak on everybody’s behalf. He coughed nervously. “My Lord, none of us actually said that this wasn’t going to work. Initially, at least. The problem we have is what exactly are people going to say when they discover they had been tricked.”
“Does it matter?”
“There is going to be such a public outcry when people realise they have paid to see nothing more than greenhouses in a garden. What if they sue?”
“You worry too much. It’s too late; they have already paid the usual entry fee for a stately home. If you look, we have not used the word aliens anywhere. They have made this story up themselves.”
Written for Sunday photo fiction