Sunday Photo Fiction is another weekly photo prompt fiction exercise I try to join frequently. There is a collection of writers from the right side (in relation to us) of the Atlantic that deliver a different perspective and flavor to story telling here. Allistair Forbes is the host and if you are not familiar with his work you are missing something special.
When we started the resistance we knew we had to develop our own method of communicating, some way our enemies could not decipher. The world wide web was out, mainly because it was no longer present, part of the loss when the electromagnetic storms ravaged everything with a chip or transistor.
Luckily there was paint, gallons and gallons of paint. We designed the code in a way that it did not match with any known written cipher code. Then we began to use it in places that we knew the enemies would see it and try to paint over it. We wanted the code to only be effective for hours, sometimes 24, but others as few as 12, or even six. But it was enough, we knew to look often.
Our abilities confounded our adversaries and we beat them at every turn. Before six months passed we had nearly defeated them and driven them back to their own borders. Until they managed to lay a trap for our bravest and most daring painter who tried to send too many messages in too short a time. He was right, if he had succeeded the war would have ended. But now we have to find another way. Our enemy used him against us, making him signal us back with our own words.
The PIES! Of all the messages they could have chosen, that was the one that sent chills through out our ranks. It was as effective as one hundred bombs!