He ran his fingers through the raging water. The boss was right, the rapids were tumultuous enough. The rabid water ripped gentle leaves below the surface, corrupting them beyond recognition.
“We’re all absorbed into chaos eventually.”
His walkie buzzed to life, “Tomas, are you ready?”
The boss said nothing would change without the influence of old words …
“Ready.” His voice was steady but only now did Tomas feel the sun beating down on his neck.
The first strings of red rushed through the rapids towards the town water supply.
They would pay for their dependence on old words today.
Word Count: 100
Many thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers!