Convictions are strange things.
In the shadows of reclusivity, fanned by the fervour of fellow zealots, they’d ignited into a blaze of enlightenment and moral justification.
But tonight the winds of opposition are causing the flames to flicker; wider intellectual debate is dampening the embers, and showers of derision threaten to extinguish them altogether.
People drift out onto the car-park, muttering disillusionment.
“Wait,” he cries from the platform, “I’m a man of conviction…”
“You’re supposed to be a politician…” says his deputy.
“But I have these convictions…”
His team shuffle awkwardly.
“Do you,” says the deputy, “have any others that might suit better?”
This website is a politics-free zone; the story is inspired solely by Rochelle’s photo prompt. 😉 Hope everyone is well and raring to take part in this week’s Friday Fictioneers get-together. After rigorous ducking and weaving, I’ve finally succumbed to the cold virus that has cocooned my husband for six days now. Inevitable I suppose, but I really thought I was going to get away with it after this long. 😦