He needed a slash. Town hall. It had toilets. He got some looks but no-one stopped him.
There was a council meeting convening. He decided to listen.
"So, if we want to win "Town in Bloom", we will need money from somewhere."
He listened. Flowers? Who cared about flowers?
"The proposed skate ramp? That would free up thousands!"
No! Not the skate ramp!
"It's only delinquents who want it anyway."
He peered around the door and saw some sweaty old bloke, laughing.
Bastards.
*
He took a stick and hacked. Colourful heads flew everywhere.
"Town in Bloom"?
Not this year.
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More stories from Rachel Deeming and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Generate me a comment please!
Dum de dum...just a little input here...take the essence of this story...put it in the AI generator...and BAM! There's a great comment, people! Look at that! It's only condensed all of that story into a nice little piece of text that I can just cut and paste, like this, into this box, at the end here. Et voila! Instant involved comment without having to think!
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
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Dear Wife— At first, I hesitated to go forward with this resolution. But after your recent late-night binges scarfing down bags of chicharrónes—those pork rinds you dip in butter and the god-awful crunch they make, I knew I could no longer reach you.
By Lamar Wiggins3 days ago in Fiction
Still Life
On an evening like any other, Edgar was ironing his clothes for the Big Day, when he had a troubling thought. Thoughts were not common for Edgar, let alone troubling ones. Usually, he bumped along from A to B to C in a lovely soup of apathy. The thought was this: What is the Big Day?
By Raistlin Allen6 days ago in Fiction
Thirty (one) and Neither Flirty nor Thriving.
I'm thirty-one and orbiting the same few mistakes like they're landmarks. London is already awake before I am (or before I've slept) - sirens somewhere far enough to ignore, buses sighing at stops, people moving with purpose I can't quite borrow. I lie there for a bit, tasting last night at the back of my throat, trying to remember if I meant to drink that much or if it just...happened again.
By Stacey Vellaabout 10 hours ago in Psyche
Comments (14)
One "juvenile delinquent" ramping his actions up in response to foolishness & ignorance.
Sounds like some priorities needed sorting! Guess he’s giving them a bit of a push … or whack
Oh the poor flowers!
I have no clue of what happened here 😅 The only thing that I'm sure of is that I love that gory and violent ending hehehehehe
Great one Rachel. I hope I never become one of those smug old people who hates kids.
Very witty,Rachel loved it!
An interesting motive for a vigilante, I like it!! Great work Rachel!!
If their only delinquents then why not act like one. Payback time!
hahaha, I loved this! That will teach them!
Now that is creative political dissent!
Well, crude. I guess he wasn't going to wait to see if they all agreed or not
Thanks. Now I have flashbacks to hours spent in council meetings. Some heads might usefully have flown during planning debates.
I could feel the rage and despair, Rachel. Nicely done.
oh the rage!