Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Fiction

By: Reese Scott

elections

They all waited till it was daylight. All the homes. All the apartments. All the cars. All the ferries. All the planes stopped. Each person went outside making sure that they had removed their modern day white face and replaced it with their true original white face from centuries ago. They cheered. They kissed. They cried. They hugged. The world had stopped. The compass had finally been broken. The alarm had finally been set free and the rainbow had finally lost all color and was just white. The suppression was over. The chains had been broken.

Suddenly it was like all thoughts had become one. It made no difference if it was a few hundred, few thousand or over a million. But now all their thoughts were locked on to a bullet that could fit into any gun and shoot the black people that had ruined their lives. Their fantasies were now coming to life. The Women day dreamed of what it would be like to have a young black child as a pet. The Men fantasized about what it would be to take their son out for his sixteenth birthday and lynch a black man.

Two Men sat out front of a foreclosed house. Drinking cheap beer.
“This is a good day.”
“This is a great day.”
“I told you.”
“I know.”
“God wouldn’t let them get any further.”
“Damn right.”
“Now we can get our jobs back.”
“Yeah. Now that they can’t steal them from us.”
In another street, in another state, two Women were on their lunch break from their job at the factory.
“I was getting so tired of all this uppity attitude. Like they deserve something.”
“Like they deserve anything. Damn. Every day is Christmas for them. They don’t work. All they do is just have babies then throw them away.”
“And we pay for them.”

In the corner of what looked to be a dead end street a young boy was hiding behind some garbage cans. Listening to the gun fire and the homemade bombs going off. He moved his head out from behind the garbage cans to see what was going on in the street. He saw a White Man who was dressed funny. He had a white wig on like one of those people from the history books back when there were large ships and Kings. The Man was climbing up a ladder to hang another black body from where the street light used to be.

He felt something hit his head. He saw blood on the concrete. He heard screams that reminded him of when his favorite team won the Super Bowl. But there was something different in these screams. These were screams he had never heard before. They sounded like the end of the word. At least for him.

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2 COMMENTS

  1. My greatest fears today in words. Fears that may soon be reality. You had me in tears from beginning to end.

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