15min fic #54
Oct. 6th, 2004 01:08 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Missing
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine, still.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 54. Bit of a boring one, but whatever. It was either this or Nol!angst, and I've decided I've done more than enough of that. Makes the poor prince look like an angsty character, but he's really not.
~ ~ ~
“It is in light of this grave problem that we must look to planning…”
Mithé frowned at the ‘final’ sentence of the report. It wasn’t like the Minister for Crime to hand him a report that hadn’t been finished. He turned the page over, thinking that perhaps she had run out of parchment and finished it on the back, but there was nothing.
He leafed through the other papers on his desk, but none of the documents were written in the Minister’s small, neat script. He read the first few lines of each page, hoping they would follow on from the Minister’s last words. Maybe something else had demanded her immediate attention, and she had given the task to someone else.
“It is in light of this grave problem that we must look to planning reached record levels this year.” Not that one.
“…We must look to planning has been on a steady rise since the introduction…” Not that one either.
“…We must look to planning turkeys in Kazin.” Mithé couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that one.
It soon became clear that none of the papers on his desk gave a logical conclusion to the crime report, and a quick check of the surrounds didn’t reveal the missing pages. He scratched his beard, frowning at some random spot on the floor.
“If I were the last pages of a crime report,” he muttered to himself, “where would I be?” His gaze shifted to the first seven or eight pages he had already read. “I would be attached to the first pages of—Yes?” He looked up at the knock on his door.
The smartly dressed Minister for Crime appeared from behind the heavy oak door, holding up a few sheets of parchment. “These were left on my desk, Majesty,” she told him. The crispness in her voice was obviously not directed at the king, but at the messenger who had delivered the report—or at least, the first few pages of it—to Mithé’s office.
Mithé smiled as he took the pages. “Thank you,” he told the woman, leafing through the three misplaced sheets. “I was becoming most intrigued with plans of using Kazinian turkeys to solve our crime problem,” he murmured, not really listening to what he was saying.
Satisfied that the report now reached a conclusion, he waved the minister for Crime from his office and rearranged himself in his chair.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine, still.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 54. Bit of a boring one, but whatever. It was either this or Nol!angst, and I've decided I've done more than enough of that. Makes the poor prince look like an angsty character, but he's really not.
“It is in light of this grave problem that we must look to planning…”
Mithé frowned at the ‘final’ sentence of the report. It wasn’t like the Minister for Crime to hand him a report that hadn’t been finished. He turned the page over, thinking that perhaps she had run out of parchment and finished it on the back, but there was nothing.
He leafed through the other papers on his desk, but none of the documents were written in the Minister’s small, neat script. He read the first few lines of each page, hoping they would follow on from the Minister’s last words. Maybe something else had demanded her immediate attention, and she had given the task to someone else.
“It is in light of this grave problem that we must look to planning reached record levels this year.” Not that one.
“…We must look to planning has been on a steady rise since the introduction…” Not that one either.
“…We must look to planning turkeys in Kazin.” Mithé couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that one.
It soon became clear that none of the papers on his desk gave a logical conclusion to the crime report, and a quick check of the surrounds didn’t reveal the missing pages. He scratched his beard, frowning at some random spot on the floor.
“If I were the last pages of a crime report,” he muttered to himself, “where would I be?” His gaze shifted to the first seven or eight pages he had already read. “I would be attached to the first pages of—Yes?” He looked up at the knock on his door.
The smartly dressed Minister for Crime appeared from behind the heavy oak door, holding up a few sheets of parchment. “These were left on my desk, Majesty,” she told him. The crispness in her voice was obviously not directed at the king, but at the messenger who had delivered the report—or at least, the first few pages of it—to Mithé’s office.
Mithé smiled as he took the pages. “Thank you,” he told the woman, leafing through the three misplaced sheets. “I was becoming most intrigued with plans of using Kazinian turkeys to solve our crime problem,” he murmured, not really listening to what he was saying.
Satisfied that the report now reached a conclusion, he waved the minister for Crime from his office and rearranged himself in his chair.