Andrew came and went before the service started. He didn’t like to be seen or heard. He certainly wouldn’t talk. What was there to say?
Fighting that crackling ache in his knees and back, Andrew hobbled to the pulpit and inserted the microphone he’d purchased into its stand. As he fumbled to unlock his sound system’s control desk, his crooked fingers burnt from within. Adjusting the sliders and dials to the perfect timbre and pitch for today’s vicar made him yelp through his tears.
Grimacing, Andrew left the church to ready himself for his return after the service.
This ninety-eight word flash fiction story of mine has been inspired by my reading and enjoyment of the flash fiction stories posted on The Drabble.