Back to blogging! A Political Fantasy Story for You

Hello dear friends and readers, 

Hope you’ve had a lovely long break from reading these ponderings and life is going well for you. 😊

I’ve been writing away in the background and am this close to completing my first book!! Doing final clean-ups and considering ways in which to publish it now. Any of your thoughts, either here or on FB would be more than welcome.

Until the book’s release, I will share a few short pieces here… prompt stories that I’ve written over the past couple of years. Some ideas were inspired by a Toronto author, Sarah Selecky, who provides daily prompts to order. Some cues came from my beloved writing group partners. And some were random, weird thoughts that came to mind.

I wrote this first one last week – a couple days before the U.S. mid-term elections. My Republican friends and family probably won’t like it, so if you don’t appreciate liberal political fantasy, might I suggest you skip this particular story? 😉

Either way, I will be adding a weekly post this month, so hope to see you again soon!

This idea came from my accountability and writing group partner, Leanna.

"Please write a completely fictional scene or story with the theme of absence and use these words somewhere in your piece:  Karen, pencil, rutabaga."

And here’s what came of that delightfully creative prompt...

Juanita closed her eyes, chewing the horribly bitter bite of boiled rutabaga, doing her best to hide the near-gag from her hostess. Karen’s home was her refuge, after all, her safe place in this loud and unfriendly new city of Houston. She wasn’t in a position to complain about the meals. She was fed and housed and, although her family was thousands of miles away and hopefully still alive, for now, she was safe. 

“Bueno?” Karen asked, glancing down at her own untouched plate.

“Si. Gracias. Thank you,” Juanita answered, swallowing the last cold lump in one go. 

Karen scooped up both plates and dropped them unceremoniously into the sink.

Following her host out into the living room, Juanita settled onto the couch and picked up her notebook and pencil, prepared to scribble down unfamiliar vocabulary words scrolling by under the newscasts. This and the subsequent study time had become their after-dinner ritual over the past three weeks. Already Juanita was beginning to decipher more meaning from the quick blather pouring from the TV. 

Once she was settled, Juanita looked across at her hostess. Rather than her usual blanket-covered, relaxed position on the lounge chair, Karen was sitting on the edge of the seat with one knee bouncing erratically. Her head was thrust toward the screen, eyebrows drawn tight together.

What is going on? Juanita wondered. She strained to understand the newscaster’s words.

The previous Tuesday, she and Karen had used their Spanish-English translation sites to discuss the US mid-term elections. Juanita had watched the Texas-born woman leap in glee from her chair when the blue bar exceeded the red and continued to rise over the final few hours of the evening. 

“We did it! We did it, Juanita! The Democrats have taken Congress!” Karen had cried, pulling her into a shaking hug and spinning her around in dizzying circles.

Last night they had celebrated again with a bottle of sparkling cider, when a man called Bernie Sanders had been named Speaker of the House. Karen had painstakingly helped Juanita understand Bernie’s philosophy – especially when it came to helping immigrants and refugees – and the power that his new position held in the American government. His was the third most powerful position in the nation. Tonight, he was scheduled to give his first address as the Speaker. 

The newscasters seemed to be talking even quicker than usual, and Juanita was unable to keep up. Doing her best to read the ticker and closed-captioned text, the “breaking news” story began to make sense. It seemed that the President (the Orange One, as Karen called him) and his Vice President (with a name sounding disturbingly like Fence) had both been missing for the previous 48 hours. The under-cover red-alert had revealed no sign of the two men. Secret Service and police at every level were frantically searching. 

Moments later, Bernie Sanders’ face filled the television screen. The stress there was obvious, but his voice was pitched to calm, addressing the world. The cameras panned back, and another man stepped into view, holding a black book and a clipboard. Juanita heard Karen’s sharp intake of breath and then saw her tears begin to flow. Back on the TV, Bernie placed his hand on the book and repeated some words, while under his picture, words slowly scrolled by in red: Trump and Pence MISSING. Speaker of the House, Bernie Sanders takes the oath of President of the United States.

***

Until next week! ~ P