Charlie lay on his stomach and put the pillow over his head, trying to block out the factory siren’s noise. It went off every morning to wake the factory’s staff. Charlie didn’t work in the factory.
This morning it annoyed him more than usual. He had a toothache and hadn’t slept much.
Breathing heavily, he swung out of bed, dressed, ran downstairs, and went to his shed.
Armed with an axe, he cycled to the factory, obliterated the door, ran up the stairs and smashed the siren. The silence was deafening.
That evening in the pub everyone bought him a drink.
#FLASHFICTION101 SEPTEMBER 2020 SHORTLISTED ENTRY
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