Pool Parties
By day, the pool pampered those who’d never known hunger; who’d been born into privilege and never left it. Cushy connections and nepotism guaranteed unearned wealth with interest and no taxes. Brown servants slathered their pale, never-pinked wrinkled bodies.
By night, Gemma, a hood rat, looped surveillance footage with empty glassed blue, while hungry, tired children, parents, and grandparents from a neighborhood three blocks away splashed harmlessly and forgot about their troubles.
Nothing good lasts forever. Drones patrol at night now. Yet they can never seem to identify the dark-hooded figures lobbing leaky offal over the fence, into its blue.
[100 words]
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the host of
Friday Fictioneers.
I loved this tale of popular requisitioning
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Neil!
LikeLike
That’s a very wonderful tale, Lisa! 👍
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re very welcome ☺️
LikeLike
The divide grows larger every day. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure you’ve seen/heard about the Converse ad by now?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Every day, something else…
LikeLike
Excellent tale of appropriation. Nicely done, Lisa.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you very much, Nancy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The contrast between daytime privilege and nighttime community escape is so sharply drawn! As Nancy’s Notes and Neil MacDonald pointed out in the comments, that shift from quiet ‘popular requisitioning’ to defiant sabotage once the drones arrive packs such a powerful punch in just 100 words. Fantastic piece, Lisa!
LikeLike
I remember the public pool I used as a kid being open to everyone.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this story Li. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
LikeLike
A tale of them and us. A great take, Lisa.
LikeLike