inkdragon
Understandably Confused
After scribbling his email down, Dominic passed the crumpled napkin to Olivia. "Keep me filled in on how things are going. And let me know if there's anything I can do to help." He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "Guess I'll be seeing you around." As he left the community center, Dominic couldn't help the spring in his step. It was a rocky start, for sure, but it was a start. He would see revolution sooner rather than later, he was sure of it. His people would finally be free.
---
The flyer came in the mail a week later.
Dominic scowled at the overly chipper form letter that happily informed him how 'wonderful' his life would be in the designated Secondary communities. No amount of handwaving or sugar-coating would change the fact that the bill was a load of horseshit. One step closer to full segregation.
He pulled out his battered old laptop, one of the few luxuries in the sparse apartment. It had taken a long time to save for it, but the more involved he grew with the resistance movement, the more it had become a necessity. He couldn't keep making the walk to the library each time he needed to go online. There had been a problem in his way and he had taken care of it. Like he always did. That thought in mind, Dominic logged into his Facebook account, going straight to the Greater Boston Secondary Rights group.
Eviction notices are officially out, he typed into a new post. Did you get yours? I'm not leaving my home or my life for anyone. March on City Hall tomorrow morning, 9:00. Bring as many people as you can get. Let's flood the streets and show Patel what we think of her generous offer to help us with our relocation.
Dominic shared the event with as many groups as he could before forwarding the link to Olivia's email with a request for her to do the same. He looked again at the letter, which politely requested he be ready when the movers came to 'help' him relocate. Oh, he was going to be ready all right. He already was.
---
The flyer came in the mail a week later.
Dominic scowled at the overly chipper form letter that happily informed him how 'wonderful' his life would be in the designated Secondary communities. No amount of handwaving or sugar-coating would change the fact that the bill was a load of horseshit. One step closer to full segregation.
He pulled out his battered old laptop, one of the few luxuries in the sparse apartment. It had taken a long time to save for it, but the more involved he grew with the resistance movement, the more it had become a necessity. He couldn't keep making the walk to the library each time he needed to go online. There had been a problem in his way and he had taken care of it. Like he always did. That thought in mind, Dominic logged into his Facebook account, going straight to the Greater Boston Secondary Rights group.
Eviction notices are officially out, he typed into a new post. Did you get yours? I'm not leaving my home or my life for anyone. March on City Hall tomorrow morning, 9:00. Bring as many people as you can get. Let's flood the streets and show Patel what we think of her generous offer to help us with our relocation.
Dominic shared the event with as many groups as he could before forwarding the link to Olivia's email with a request for her to do the same. He looked again at the letter, which politely requested he be ready when the movers came to 'help' him relocate. Oh, he was going to be ready all right. He already was.