☰ Cul-de-sac

I live in a housing development in the suburbs of a large city. 

Every house here is very close to its neighbor. Every house has a double garage door that can be locked from the inside. Two of the upstairs bedrooms are directly above the garage, and if you are quiet or barefoot, or just sensitive, you can feel the vibration as the large metal door rolls up or down below you.

I am reading a book when I hear the low rumble of diesel fueled engines congregate outside my window. 

I get up from my chair and look out the upstairs window to see three large, black armored trucks gliding down the street at a snail’s pace. The first truck’s wheels turn slightly as it stops in the center of the cul-de-sac.

They use the speakers atop each metal behemoth to announce their arrival. 


I cringe and slip on my boots. 

The speakers repeat themselves, over and over. 

I lace up my left boot, then my right. I re-check the window that looks over the cul-de-sac. 

A few of my neighbors are already in their driveways, clad in nightclothes, looking confused in the half-light. 

Armed men in smoke colored camouflage emerge from the trucks one by one. They walk up and down the street nodding at my neighbors. 

They are counting.

I feel my garage door’s vibration even under booted feet, as I watch all my neighbor's garage doors open simultaneously. I know I locked my garage from the inside the last time I smoked a cigarette. 

I hear the first of the gunshots as I slip out the back door and over the fence. The screaming that follows my footsteps disturbs me, but not nearly as much as what hovers in the sky above.

When faced with such a looming adversary, one would think, we would all stick together, as a species, united. 

On the contrary. 

Our new visitors were the infinitesimal push that started a war. 

You see, the Earth was shit to us, until we realized someone else wanted it. We trashed it and used it up and pissed it away. 

What brings man to his senses when it comes to destroying the planet?
Little green men with pockets overfilling with rent money. 

It was time to evict the old and bring in the new, increase their profits, use our planet as a business. Everyone who already lived here who didn't want this, could go to hell as far as the government was concerned.

I creep to my hiding spot in the field behind the cul-de-sac and begin to dig. I retrieve coordinates, my weapon, my go bag.

It is time to take a stand. 
To fight for what is ours and our place here. 
I'd known this day would come, we all had. 
Today, the rebellion will begin. 


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you so much for reading! I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad the comment section is working properly now!! = )


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My novel, Trigram, is in the works, but in the meantime, I'll probably be working on short stories such as the ones on Wicked Shorts. (Wink)

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