"Capital Punishment," a short story by Boo Merengue
I was on a private jet somewhere in the Bible Belt of America. It was tornado season or something. We were trying to deliver Indian food to an unspecified locale. Oh, and my Operations Director was flying the plane. So I'm attempting to assemble meals for the order, on the plane, while great gusts of wind rock the plane back and forth. The landings and take-offs are the scariest part. The orders make no sense, and I'm hit with this overwhelming sense of how much I do not want to be here, risking life and limb for deliverable shulgum (that's mashed turnips and sweet peas to you neophytes out there). But almost as strong as that feeling is the shock that it has taken me this long to realize my dissatisfaction with the whole scenario. That I had gone along with it for so long, because, hey, it's just my job. I do not want to be another pawn in the great struggle for capital control and accumulation, and I will not submit myself to such depths of degradation and stupidity for someone else's idea of convenience.
This story was divined from a dream dreamt by Boo Merengue at approx. 3:00 a.m., 8/25/2011, and as such is the sole property of Boo Merengue. Any attempt to reproduce or publicly display, perform, or distribute or otherwise use this material for any public or commercial purpose is strictly prohibited.