(my first fiction accepted for publication, to be published July, 2023, by Half and One )
A Closed Set
Two men in French blue
overalls knock on the door and mumble something important. Something will happen. We cannot hear them though. I am drinking
coffee and I try to open the door, one hand balancing the coffee, the other
struggling to close the door enough to release the chain lock. But they’ve walked away now. I say, Excuse
me! But it’s to their backs.
The next day we wake to find an large earthmover parked in the drive. A mound of dirt blocks our door from opening.
We don’t panic, but it’s odd to be trapped inside. I climb out the window and walk to the warehouse next door. I see a whirl of activity. I walk in the roll up door and talk to the workers, some anxiously moving, some sitting distractedly in canvas camp chairs. Some in overalls, men and women both, some wear business casual. In my significant voice I ask: What is this? Is it a film? (There is a camera on tracks. A large man with a baseball cap that says “Manchester City” sits on the seat behind the Dolly.) When will it end? What about dirt in our driveway? (These are reasonable questions! I tell them when I am ignored.)
I think the shrugs of indifference are from shlubs who look like workers who build spreadsheets, carry iron boxes of tools, handle a web of cords and wires, and answer phones that do not ring. (Continued....)
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