Circle The Wagons

We’re only a week into the new year and already we can see that the old year is not done with us, yet. 2020 will just not lay down and die. It will not go out peacefully. From what we witnessed yesterday we should now realize that time does not mean a thing when it comes to the despicable acts of people. Specific people, and people in general. A new year? Not hardly. Not yet.

There are very few individuals that can be held responsible for what transpired in our nation’s capital yesterday, but it puts a bad light on all of us in the eyes of the world. How many years, decades, generations will it take to recover what has been lost? I don’t think that is possible in my lifetime. What few years I have left are only a drop in the amount of water that is going to have to pass under the bridge for life to begin to return to what we once had. If it can.

I’ve always heard that one bad apple can spoil the barrel. If yesterday wasn’t proof, then I don’t know what is. When I was reading the headlines of the papers from countries around the world last night I was appalled. Their words said it all. And with such clarity. People, we have lost our standing among the nations of the world. The slide began a few years ago, but it has picked up steam in the past couple, and dropped over the precipice into the abyss of darkness yesterday.

It is now time that we circle the wagons and hope that the calvary arrives before it’s too late. I am not in position to do that on a national level, but I can sure do it on a local level. I think we all can. I would like to persuade everyone else to concentrate taking care of their own, their family, their friends. Pull them near. Hold them close. Appreciate them for who they are. Know that, as a small group, you will not be able to influence the large world, but you can sure influence and take care your small world.

If everyone were to accomplish that, then maybe, just maybe, our collective whole can do that which just one of us cannot. I never thought I’d live through what I saw yesterday. I hope I make it long enough to witness the recovery, or at least the beginning of a recovery.

Good night, Mrs. Jackson, wherever you are.

Was I Ever Wrong

In April I asked a question: How many deaths are acceptable (Let The Cows Roam Free). At the time I thought 500, or maybe as high as 1,000, a day might be the point where the public rebels. I was definitely wrong.

Take a look at these numbers from yesterday and see how far we have come in accepting death from a source that might have been contained if it had been handled differently.

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Flash Fiction

I woke up this morning thinking I might try something new. New to me, that is. I’ve read about flash fiction, but never gave it a thought. I just thought the stories would be nothing more than mini short stories. That’s easy to say. Writing the thing is not quite that easy.

If I understand it correctly, flash fiction is a story of somewhere in the neighborhood of just a few words to something not greater than around 2,000 words. I get the feeling that the fewer words, the better. I’ve seen some contests that put a 300 word limit on submissions, so that is what I sat my goal at. Then I wrote.

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