Today’s Prompt : Energy production
A Sparkle of Energy
The news of the interdict was delivered late in the afternoon. Sarah sat on comfortable cushions in one of the bay windows that circled her lounge. She sighed into her sour mood and crumbled to her seat, head bowed in abject depression.
“What the hell am I going to do?” The walls echoed her sentiment; ricocheting her thoughts back at her as if they were tangible notions she could build on.
The worst thing of all, though, was that this was usually the best time of her day. Normally, she’d be in the thick of things at the shelter’s kitchen; bubbling in the center of the chaos, feeling the place's energy radiate in waves of undulating good will. She could almost hear the jostle and spin; quick reactions to the endless screech of instructions from chefs, dishwashers and servers. It was incredibly hard for her to accept how quiet it was, and just how hungry her charges would be, wherever they were in the big bad world.
“God!”
Idiot bureaucrats, why was it that as soon as you empowered some people with authority, they turned into unreasonable demons and always came up with an impossible to-do list, or a set of rules that precluded, well, everything ordinary.
“Why?”
Sarah was in two minds; she seriously wanted to give Damon Hill a call and issue a set of her own instructions at his dense head; oh, how she’d love to give him a piece of her mind, but at the same time she thought about begging him to reconsider to take a day out and visit the shelter, actually come out of his office; his safe little cocoon and interact with the staff and the residents. Oh, ha...no there were no residents left, he’d destroyed everything she’d built; everything she believed in and all her hope.
“Regulations, Sarah, there’s nothing I can do.” She felt a jolt cripple her shoulders at the memory of his words; she felt her bitterness rise like a tide.
At first she’d thought that he was such a sweet, kind man. He seemed to take care and listen to everything she’d had to say; that he appreciated her passion. But, he’d simply shut her down when push came to shove. The old building was a fire hazard, he said. He gave them an ultimatum
“Get out, close up. Reallocate.” Just like that, no sympathy, none of the empathy she thought she’d seen in him. She was so damn mad at herself for believing that a government employee, in a position like his, could ever be human.
She needed coffee, but the kitchen seemed so far away, the effort required, way too arduous. But, the kitchen seemed to call, with a force of its own, so she rose to the occasion and stumbled to the room which was way too cheerful for her state of mind.
It hit her when the kettle started to sing, and she nearly burnt her hand, her shakes were so jittery.
She spun around in her massive kitchen and took in the room in all its glory. She left the boiling water to itself and ran through each of the rooms in the grand old mansion her father had left to her.
“Good lord, how did it take me this long to work it out. Why am I such an idiot?”
She dashed down the stairs; energy spiking through her veins.
She fumbled in her bag for her cell and punched in Damon’s number.
Oh, my heavens, how she wished she could see his face when she delivered her plans. She felt a grin spread at the sound of his idiot voice.