The Pebble

“When we were coming home last night, did you see that new construction going up on Maitland St.”
“The one with all the floodlights on?”
“Yeh. What are they doing keeping those lights on all night? Looks like just all the other pre-fab monstrosities going up nowadays.”
“Maybe the sites been raided for materials? I hear it happens quite a bit.”
“If they are so damned concerned about their precious materials then they should lock them up where people simply can’t walk up, go ‘oow I like that’, and cart it away! Not to mention wasting all that energy because they think they should be able to leave their crap lying all over the place.”
“Damn, you sure are passionate about….?, whatever it is your on about.”
“How many times do I have to repeat this to you!? Every war is won on small victories just as much as on the big. Tomorrow I will write a letter to the council about the lack of aesthetically and environmentally challenging architecture blighting our landscape. In another I will outline the flagrant use of power keeping those floodlights on. It will make little difference, but perhaps, just perhaps, I can plant a seed.”
“You and your seeds. If all those seeds grow they’ll be no space to walk anywhere. You love getting up on that pedestal of yours and telling everyone else how it should be. How can you be so sure your vision won’t have just as many flaws as all the other grand plans thrown about.”
“Why are you being so critical lately? Every time I point out a perfectly sound, logical point to you, I get nothing but the farmer trying to cut me down. To be honest I’m getting pretty sick of it.”
“Wow Jess. I have to listen to your rants everyday. I’ve been listening to them for the past three years. If anyone has the right to be a little fed up with negativity, its me!”
“Negativity! All the things I say, all the points I make are made in the name of positivity. The world’s so screwed up at the moment it’s impossible for me not to talk about it. Now I’m getting the same ‘be quiet’ attitude from you.”
Jess turned away to face the window. The rest of the drive home was silent.

Journal Comments

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