Picture courtesy of Claire Fuller
The urge to go dystopian was strong with this photo. I am resisting that urge and trying a new path.
Word count: 100
Smoke ‘em if You’ve Got ‘em
The workers knew it wasn’t going to happen. They’d tried before but fear shut them out. Counting the vote now, their future hinged on the result. Yes meant union, no meant more of the same.
Milling around outside the shop, small talk made the waiting painful. Passing time, passing cigarettes around, whispers about what Joe, the union organizer, stood to gain. Someone always stood to gain more than they did.
When the word came, it was no surprise. They’d try again in the spring. Cigarette butts, like hope, were ground into the dirt. Today, it was business as usual.
© Erin Leary
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