Morning all and welcome to Tuesday. I know the fourth of July is only a few days away but either my neighbors have purchased the entire fireworks department of one of the tent vendors or they are seriously going to run out before the fourth. We’ve had massive displays every night since Sunday. Luckily no fires as it is still damp. When exactly did the fourth become a week long celebration? I don’t mind it. I actually like the fireworks although the neighborhood dogs do not agree. I just want to know when it was expanded. Something to think about. For now, let’s get on with the morning prompt. Timers set and off we go.
I am not exactly sure where this is going, but I suspect someone is going to be murdered.
Tuesday, July 2nd: Work had been going on for several years.
Work had been going on for several years. He saw the reports and the photos sent back and felt a flush of pride for what he was doing. He felt that he was at least achieving something worthwhile. He built his empire on vanity and often had to defend the company against those who thought what he was doing was pointless. Useless.
He told people that he was doing good. He explained the points he felt were valid when the need arose. He believed in what he did, who he was.
‘But it is nice to do something I don’t have to defend.’
A fully modern, funded and staffed medical center. In a place where there was none for the people living there. Instead of rising the sick and injured through long journeys that could kill them before they reached the treatment they needed, there would be a place for them close by. He pulled the report close.
At least that was the plan. There was something troubling about the photos. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what bothered him, but something did. And he had long since learned to trust his instincts. As always he started with the photos, unable to keep himself from looking at the visual progress. Now, he turned to the report.
He read every paragraph, every sentence, every word. He even looked at the few footnotes included for his reference. It ll seemed correct, but there was something off about it. He lay the report on his desk next to the photos and pushed himself back from the desk. He stood and crossed the room to his filing cabinet. He unlocked the bottom drawer and took out the thick files of reports and photos he collected previously from the project.
He took the file back to his desk and slowly started to go through them all. The reports gave a slow and steady progress. It was what he expected. For the moment he set them to the side. He laid out the photographs, hoping that he would be able to see whatever had bothered him if it was all splayed out. He lay the pictures for each report down sequentially in long lines across his desk. The photos accompanying each report focused on the aspects of the building site that the report was describing so they were all taken from different angles an showed many aspects of the site.
He looked at them and several details immediately jumped out at him. ‘That’s not the same site,’ he realized. There were differences, subtle ones, in building materials on a few. ‘And the dirt here is a completely different color than the other photo. And that tree is gone.’
There had been a delay because the tree was a protected species and protection had to be negotiated. It delayed building as they had to subtly reposition the building to account for it. ‘I need to go in person,’ he decided. He realized that if something was going on, then someone might notice his absence. ‘I’ll have to make it a secret trip.’ He began to plan even as he gathered the files and reports.
Ten til Midnight 