A Story A Day. Story 314 of 365: Button.

Months of campaigning, and a lifetime of sacrifice had brought Brígh where she was, at the Presidential house. She had dreamt of it since she was in college, or even before. It was a dream come true. And a huge responsibility, too. Balancing personal life and career had been hard, and it would be harder, specially as her husband, Amets, was a daydreamer. He said he was an inventor, and he did invent things, eventually, yet most of the time he spent his days with his mind on the clouds. Brígh loved him deeply, and she knew that was the only way for him to be happy, yet, she sometimes wished he would pay attention to what was happening around him. Furthermore, he had the rare ability to do things he was not supposed to do, in the end it was like taking care of a young child.

When they moved into the Presidential house, Brígh was very worried, there were so many things Amets could screw up she even considered banning him to enter some rooms. She didn't because that would be useless, so she let him wander around hoping the guards would stop him from doing something reckless. Needless to say that turned out to be a vain hope, as Amets managed to find every hidden spot in the house, every secret room and passage, and into the most secret rooms of it all. 

When Amets walked into it he had to look twice. He didn't know how he had arrived there, as he had only been wandering around. The room looked like a relic from old times, there was a typewriter, a couple of landlines, and some dusty furniture. It looked forgotten. And on a panel by the wall, a big red button. The button was calling him. "Press me" it whispered. What would it do? It was so inviting, he had to press it. Amets approached it with expectation, caressing it, he pushed it softly and waited. Nothing happened. He pushed harder. The explosion blew up half of the neighborhood.