Welfare

 

"Trash fluttered around the empty, hollow streets of Svetnaya. A dark wind howled, sweeping the debris further and further away into the night. The frigid air had specks of snow in it, and huddled poor people could be seen stumbling about, wrapped in the season's warmest coats and blankets they could afford.

Russia had been in decay. The economy had turned downward, and something had been taken out of their society. The trash swirled and tumbled in the breeze, caught in an empty reverie. The hunger. That's all there was left in this world.

A man rubbed his hands together in the frigid breeze, a little light from a streetlight catching a strange look in his eye. He winced, and pulled away. There it was. The emptiness. The cold. The need for more.

Two of the bundled up poor people, a man and a woman, entered a large department building with a sign over the door reading Social Department. They shook off the slight snow and stomped over to a roped line by several windows. There was no one waiting. One of the Social officers, a young, brisk woman, called them over.

The three exchanged words for a little while. The poor couple was animated, gesturing wildly. They needed more. The office handled the economic well being of poor people in society. They had both had their fill that month. Ungratefully, the couple cursed and swore and stomped out, receiving a tongue lashing from the prim young lady behind the window. That's how Svetnaya was becoming. Very volatile.

Months passed, the same scene happening every night and day. More windows, more Social officers, more refusals. The department buildings were starting to get mobbed, absolutely inundated, from the poor masses showing up and demanding things, more and more gruffly, every day. Violence was coming.

First they started taking the lanterns. Then, as things got worse, the stores, the bicycles, the food. Then, all was madness. Mobs swarmed everything. Turning over cars, shattering windows, violently beating anyone who got in their way.

More months. Russia was gone, Svetnaya toppled to the masses of the poor people in the city. Shrieking sirens wailed through downtown, bridges' cables snapped and hung loosely, lights flickered on and off eerily throughout the city. Only the Statue of Freedom was left.

A benevolent woman, holding up a torch of salvation, light, and life. The people wanted that, as well. Hundreds of them crowded around it's base, pushing and pulling, and unsettling the statue as much as possible. After a few hours it began to topple over, swaying and giving in to the will of the crowds beneath it. With a loud boom it fell and shattered, people cheering and celebrating as they began to run off with the pieces.

The fragments of the torch and her lady were carried off into the night, never to stand proudly and serve Russia and her people ever again. The wind howled and blew, as the debris from the city swirled through the cold, empty night streets of Svetnaya once again."

Short Stories