This is a Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers submission on 13th August 2015. Thanks to Sonya for the picture.
Time permitting, there’ll be a companion piece to this.
(My book is Still free by the way)
Thomas had only taken the job in the gift shop to fund his PHD, but he fell in love and stayed. Even now, twenty years on, he feels a thrill as he walks across the outer bailey to the kiosk. It’s a breathtaking place, this castle on the Welsh Marches, a masterpiece of 13th century design. In its time, it was deemed to be impregnable, though lately, it seems it’s only the tourists it keeps out.
Thomas is aware that business hasn’t been good lately. Mostly, the only customers he sees are sullen schoolchildren, as reluctant to be here as the hostages who filled the dungeons during the reign of Edward Longshanks.
The manager called him in last night told him of plans to turn the place into an Interactive Historical Experience, with wax work and actors.
Maybe Thomas shouldn’t have done what he did then but he’s never been one to stand for the commodification of History. With traffic as poor as it’s been, it’ll take the caretaker days to find the body in the dungeon and, by then, Thomas will be safely barricaded in the kiosk. It might not be impregnable, but it’ll give him long enough to plan his next move.