Immigration checks, closed borders, bio-metric proofs of identity, and any number of other ways that could be conceived of to slow the process of transport: ordinary people with no political agendas beyond having a vacation or arriving in time to attend Aunt Mildred’s funeral were “trapped” in the arrivals hall.  The newest list of “suspect” individuals and groups had been issued.

Yes, the courts had ruled that the previous lists and restrictions had been an infringement of the law, but with a disproportionate number of civil servants knocking out such politically motivated “us and them” documents, the judges just couldn’t keep up.

For tired, grumpy passengers, however, all it meant was more queues, and midnight, the witching hour, becoming just one more “bitching hour” as they tried to keep irritated children calm, and resisted venting their fury to their neighbours with ugly words.



Sunday Photo Fiction – Oct 6 2019

FOWC with Fandango — Court

Christine’s Daily Writing Prompt: The Witching Hour

Sunday Writing Prompt “Ugly Words”

6 thoughts on “Delay

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