Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Bleak

Ever since the fall of the second dynasty, our world had been thrown into chaos. Nothing seemed right anymore. There were no morals, no laws, nothing. But no one cared. No one felt it was wrong. No one but me. Laws today were arbitrary. What was legal today wasn’t tomorrow under the new regime. The only law that remained constant was that no government, past, present, or future could be expressed in any form deemed derogatory by the current regime except by the conquering regime.

I couldn’t keep things straight anymore, but I had to; I didn’t want to die for disobedience. I didn’t understand how the others could keep up, following blindly like a bunch of sheep. I liked to think of myself as more of a leader, but I knew I wasn’t a real leader. If I was, I wouldn’t be so afraid to die for what I believed in. More recently, there have been whispers of a coup rising up against the new regimes, a group, working from the grassroots where there is the most discontent, as is the case in most uprisings.

And it wasn’t only political chaos that was rampant, nature also had had enough of our abuse. She took her revenge on us and sent in an invasion of highly resistant pigeons. It was as though they had taken on the characteristics of bacteria, growing and adapting to the technologies created to destroy them. You would be hard pressed to find a building that wasn’t covered in a thick layer of shit. I know it’s hard to imagine, I know what you’re thinking. They’re just pigeons, what can they do? Well for one, they are creepy as hell. The way they watch you with their beady little eyes. It’s like they know something, like they’re watching and waiting for you to slip up, to make a mistake and expose a vulnerability that they can shit on. I suppose that’s why the pigeon has unofficially become the symbol of the imminent rebellion.

In early China, the ability to control the Yellow River was a measure of a dynasty’s competency to rule. Now it was the ability to control the pigeon population. The rebels enjoyed the symbolism associated with the stream of regimes unable to control these pests. They imagine themselves to be such a handful for the government when the time comes that they will be impossible to suppress.

But we will see. Only time will tell. But for now, all that is left is to wait.

Prompt: Random three word story (derogatory, me, pigeon)

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