The petition had received the requisite number of signatures, and it was now on the agenda for the next Council meeting. It had been a long road, but the movement’s supporters were sure that this time the political wanna-bees of the town would start to understand that they were not the all-knowing sovereign power they thought they were. Yes, this was going to be true democracy at work. The people demanded change, and the Council better give it to them. After all, who waits until Friday for bin collection anyway? The weekend rubbish just has to go sooner!
It was the most acrimonious meeting of the Neighbourhood Association that anyone could remember. It was even worse that the one where the “foreign” family broke protocol and used cooking ingredients not on the “approved list,” for the annual Founder’s Day picnic.
“It breaks with tradition, and we all know how important tradition is,” Margery Cooke said authoritatively as others nodded in agreement.
“But times are changing,” Mable Hunt retorted, to applause of as few of the more progressive members.
“Well that might be all well and good over in Highland Park, but it won’t wash here in Pleasant Acres,” Margery countered.
In the end there was a very tense vote, and with the breaking of tradition the motion passed by the margin of three votes. Times were indeed changing in Pleasant Acres and the hanging baskets on Main Street were going to feature purple rather than red petunias this year. It was quite the coup.
Donny had never really taken life to seriously. He had been the class clown in high school and coasted through college with an art degree which he admitted was based on work that was derivative at best, or just throwing colour randomly on canvas. He got himself a job at a gallery by connections with a girl he had dated in college and lost it about as fast as he lost her. So how could he now be standing in front of a cheering crowd as their mayor? He had only registered as a candidate as a drunken dare.
Flash Fiction Challenge: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about something a character never dreamed would happen.
“Things are panning out just as I planned,” Dr. Notorious said. “Racial unrest has been heightened, and that wonderful virus as divided people over social distancing, and mask-wearing. And now a few well-placed fake voting boxes, and a few cut cables in the system, and all will be ready to bring about my revolution of chaos. It will take just one more coal and all will be ready for me to arrive and take control.”
His henchman, Boris nodded and leaned over to toss a coal into the fire.