Activists are being stalked by hired gunmen so, when I visit poor farmers in rural settlements, I alternate transportation and I rarely sleep in the same place twice.
Their land has been 'privatized,' they don't own it anymore, and it's priced beyond their reach.
What do I tell them?
"Get off?"
Hell no.
"Hold fast!"
5
favs |
1037 views
18 comments |
57 words
All rights reserved. |
The tree in me.
This story has no tags.
You bet. Hold fast, & don't fire 'til you see the whites of their eyes. *
Hell yes!
"when I visit poor farmers in rural settlements, I alternate transportation and I rarely sleep in the same place twice."
This line got to me. It would be a stunning first line to a longer piece.
Hi, Jack. Thanks. You get the picture. The story is currently unfolding in the world around us.
Hi, Michael. Thanks. I like your emphatic enthusiasm.
Hi, Susan. Thanks. That's what I have in mind; the character might even be a woman, a Catholic nun gone radical; she sees it as a spiritual challenge to keep the people attached to the land and not let them be caught up into the godless synthetic metamorphosis.
A lot of story in this piece, a fair amount of world.
Hi, David. Thanks. It's the story of the future as globalized wealth and power grow unchecked for those at the top, forcing everone else to follow their dictates.
Nice, J. I really like this voice--and the brevity expressed here.
*
Concise and precise.
*
I love this voice. And it can stand alone, but I like others would love to read more.
I loved this little piece, a nice, quick jab, said just right.
Hi, Isabell. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Hi, Bill. Thanks for the comment, the message, and the formating suggestion, instead of:
What do I tell them? "Get off."
Hell no. "Hold fast!"
I very much appreciate.
Hi, Keri. Yes, I intend to expand the story. Thanks for reading.
Hi, Foster. I greatly appreciate your comment. Thanks for reading.
yes. this (as well as its followup piece which i read first) have the making to a great story outline. righteous stuff. unless you were just preaching. in which case you preserved the absurd like the fruit in the jam pot.
Hi, Marcus. Thanks for reading both pieces. Preaching? No. Nothing but the facts. And a little fictionizing. Allowing the story to tell itself, hopefully, with absurdities well preserved.