Vote

A tale of two women…

She looked at the long line, sometimes clumpy, sometimes gappy, that slowly flowed from the building’s front door. The people that made up the segments shuffled past neatly trimmed grass and out of season blooms from the winding line in the full parking lot. She doesn’t have time for this, she thinks to herself. It’s not like her vote counts anyway. One more obscured by the press of so many.

She looked at the throng of guards, sometimes joking, sometimes severe, that slowly paced around the building’s exterior. The people that dared to enter bowed their heads in fearful respect and teeth grinding determination, and left faster than they had entered the sparsely occupied building. She’ll give up the rest of her time for this, she thinks to herself. She is steering her country’s future. One more adding to the press of so many.

… in the same country.

(This post inspired by, and written for, Sunday Scribblings #294: Vote.)