Perception

Chapter Thirty-five

Chapter Thirty-five

If you knew what you were doing you'd probably be bored.

 Unknown

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“And their apathetic approach is proof of this.”

"Strong words from the Premier today as Parliament house endures it's fifth day of hit and run protestors." the overly tanned man swivels on his chair to look at the older woman by his side, "Do you think this apathetic brand of protesting will have any baring on voting in just two days time? Margaret?"  

  "I don't know Gordon, we'll have to wait and see. And next up puppies, their cute they’re cuddly but do you really know where they've been? Stay tuned."

   "Apathetic, my leg foot." Pack Rat grumbled stitching off the portable television set I had, (cough, cough) liberated earlier that day on my travels. Abraham’s shak was warm and dry compared to the winds outside. I hadn't really been listening to the phony spiel nor was I interested in the chatter now but the agitated words kept cutting into my concentration. "We stop traffic."

     "We almost ringed the building today!" Mark crowed jumping over to give Pack Rat a high five,  "I bet tomorrow we'll finish before the end starts."

     "Tomorrow we won't stop traffic, we'll stop the city!" Pack Rat predicted pulling Mark in for a chest bump.

     "Today the city, tomorrow the world!" I mocked doing a bad impersonation of some lame cartoon super villain.

     "Why not?" he asked offended.

     "Because they’re not taking us seriously," Abraham stated from where he sat beside me. Usually these meetings were just a whole lot of chest puffing and back patting but finally some else’s pessimism was showing. Silently I was just glad I wasn't the only naysayer anymore. It's a lonely road when no one wants to listen to reason.

    "What do you mean, Abraham? We were just on the news," Samson pointed at the TV screen. "Annus, he made a statement."

    "Four days too late," Sandra noted shifting uncomfortably on her log stool; "If we had been making any difference they would have done something by now. Made arrests, issued more public statements, something, anything. Instead they know there is a timeline and they're waiting us out."

     "We've got public opinion on our side." Lauren argued.

     "The next elections not for another three years. People will have forgotten about us by then." I pointed out fingering the can opening in my hand. “Hell they would have forgotten us by Sunday.”

     "How did he get elected anyway?" Petra wondered going off on a tangent, "Fergus was the favorite all through the election."

     I knew the answer to that question. I had the proof shoved safely way in the hidden pocket of my bag. When I had gone to Troyes today I had found more then I canned peaches and a battery operated TV set.

     "Does it matter? He's winning." Sandra gripped, standing in frustration, "Maybe if we did something drastic like-"

    "No!" Petra ordered, the ring of authority in her tone, "No drastic action, and no violence."

   "You try telling that to the masses." Pack Rat muttered jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

   The camp wasn't our ‘camp’ anymore it had mutated into some sort of refugee detention centre. When word had spread about your protest our once small campsite had became the new Mecca for the homeless and near destitute of the state. There were tents spanning from the front gate to the back wall. You could barely move without tripping over some tie rope or sleeping frame. For now everyone seemed to be behaving themselves but I wasn’t enjoy the notoriety. And that wasn't just my anti-socialism talking, if this bill got through, when this bill got through they won't have to look far for their first batch of vagrants.