afghangirlscifi

Science fiction stories chronicling Afghan women and girls.

Wednesday, July 21, 2004

ELECTION

Mosta these reporters are using recorders.  I hate transcribing, tedious work, so I do shorthand.  After a long time, I hear, "and now for my final promise.  If I am elected mayor of this fine city, I'll clean up the downtown parks.  Too many dope smokers, I'll increase police patrols.  I thank you for attending this press conference."
Chad of the Chronicle grins wickedly as he turns to me, "he ain't getting my vote, maybe yours."
I blush, don't reply.
"Self-righteous, hypocritical, puritanical, two-faced moron.  Owns a house, he can smoke up all he wants.  Rest of us, these tiny apartments, where else but the park?  Seen him there lots buying, Reinhard is his favorite pusher.  Still, reckon half the voters have seen him too.  Slow-news day, bet the editor prints the whole speech."
We both laugh.  Gotta run, deadline.  

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