Written for “The Scribe’s Cave“ a place where fiction dwells. Pop over and add your piece of flash fiction based on the picture. You only need 50-200 words and you’ll be warmly welcomed by the Cave Mistress. My story this week is a smidgen over the limit at 210 words.
Bridget McPherson was not happy. Management of the train company had voted to pay for a new leg. Of course, this was no altruistic decision on their behalf for some do-gooder had written to the newspapers and the newspapers had jumped at a chance to write a scathing article about the train company’s lack of compassion towards a poor widow.
When Bridget lost her leg in a train derailment five years earlier, she decided on a rigid leg. She said it was more comfortable than the ones with the bendable knee-joint. The train company happily paid for the rigid leg and Bridget’s brother had moved her into his cottage with him. Happy as pigs in mud, there’d been parties every weekend. It was at one of these soirées that everything went belly up for the pair.
There’d been a discreet knock on the front door and within seconds, the small cottage had been crawling with MI5 operatives. Why, you may ask gentle reader, would MI5 be interested in this unassuming household?
The answer lies in Bridget’s hollow leg, which, when removed, was found to be hiding complex plans to blow up the Tower of London.
Bridget received her new, fully flexible leg. It should last her for her lifetime in jail.