Stop the presses! (fiction)

Write a post about anything you’d like, but be sure to include this sentence somewhere in the final paragraph:“He tried to hit me with a forklift!”

I was running awfully late with my story. But it was not my fault. News are unpredictable. I was a rocky reporter and I just witnessed a police operation dismantling a terrorist cell in my city that night. The police arrested three terrorists and discovered a hiding place with a lot of weapons and explosives. The terrorists were responsible of at least 18 killings and an almost deadly attempt against my boss. Breaking news. Front page news and the clock ticking. I was on the street at 11 pm and I had to write the story for the next day’s newspaper. Me.  The youngest reporter in the house.

The operation had been dangerous and scared me to death. I had never seen a terrorist and so many weapons and explosives so close in my life. And then, it was so late when all that finished I realized I had no time to write the story before the deadline.

When I arrived to the newsroom my boss was waiting for me with a lot of questions he kept for later. He had a desk with all ready for me so I only had to type my story as fast as possible. He was at my side, overseeing my work. My coworker John, knowing I don’t drink, put in front of me a beer I drank in a gulp without noticing what it was. So nervous I was.

But the clock was unmerciful and the deadline passed. The presses were on. My boss had to order: “Stop the presses”!. The machine slowly stopped rolling while everybody looked at us.

We introduced the changes. And the press began to move slowly and then faster and faster…. until all was back on track. I sighted.

We went to the warehouse to wait for the fresh new copies to come out. I didn’t know that when the manager realized the high cost I just caused coming late with my news and stopping the presses, get mad, really mad, and began to look for who was responsible for the delay. I was in a corner of the warehouse with a cup of coffee trying to calm down after all  that night’s excitement, when suddenly I heard a strange noise. I looked back and had just enough time to to jump and run to escape: He tried to hit me with a forklift!.

Daily Prompt: Non Sequitur.

More forklift stories in the next page:

Author: Olga Brajnović

Journalist and writer. I've worked for 26 years in a newspaper in Spain. I worked for two years as a stringer and correspondent in the US and went as a special envoy to other places like the Balkans. Author of a biography. Sea lover. Avid reader. Classic Music enthusiast.

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