All is Fair in Love and War and Diplomacy by J. Hess

“Take meticulous notes,” the Foreign Minister whispers as we wait by the ornate double doors. “The prime minister will try to backtrack, and we’ll rely on your record to hold him to the commitments made. And one day, historians will use your notes to write countless books on what unfolds today.” He offers a tight smile that does not reach his eyes, bloodshot and puffy from several sleepless nights.

Before I can respond, the oak doors swing open. The President enters, her clenched jaw the only sign of the intense pressure of this moment. She walks quickly, matching the stride of the taller prime minister, who enters from the opposite end of the auditorium.

The President and the prime minister pause onstage in front of the press pool, neither smiling during their brief handshake. Hundreds of cameras click in unison while reporters jostle and shout questions as the leaders of two historic adversaries meet at last. The President remains silent, and the Foreign Minister and I fall into step behind her as she proceeds to the meeting room. Stern guards flank the door next to a sign that reads, “NO ELECTRONICS BEYOND THIS POINT.”

The two delegations split as we enter to take our places on opposite sides of a long mahogany table adorned with both countries’ flags. Four solitary chairs – paired on either side – sit around a table that could accommodate twenty, creating contradictory sensations of intimacy and emptiness.

I stand by the notetaker’s chair directly behind the President. When the President takes her seat, the Foreign Minister and I follow suit. The prime minister stalls, whispering softly to his own foreign minister. Mind games, I scoff silently, glancing at the President, but she watches calmly, unperturbed by his antics. Finally, the prime minister gestures to his foreign minister and notetaker and they all sit in unison.

I glance at my counterpart across the table. She has her notebook open and is already scribbling furiously.

I uncap my pen to jot down the start time. No ink. I scratch harder and shake the pen, but it remains dry. Impossible, as the pen is new and I tested it just minutes ago. Tamping down my anxiety, I fumble in my jacket pocket, remove my backup pen, and press down on the paper. Nothing. It’s just as dry as the first.

Panic surges through me. The most important peace talks in a generation, and I will leave nothing behind but blank pages.

Barely able to breathe, I glance up to find the prime minister watching me over the President’s shoulder. Our eyes meet and he holds my gaze. His lips curl in a barely perceptible smirk as he leans in and begins, “Madam President, we have so many issues to cover…”

J. Hess feels fortunate to have lived in almost a dozen countries. J.’s flash fiction appears in Bright Flash Literary Review, 50-Word Stories, Flash Phantoms, and elsewhere.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash