The people had been queuing since first light. The sun was now high above; beads of sweat dripped down already flushed faces. However, they’d wait.
Of course, everybody had seen the ancient artefacts before – many times. The City though liked to remind. To reaffirm.
An artist’s easel, a rusting typewriter, a broken piano, a ripped and faded book
‘Did we really once need these things?’ a thousand voices would sneer in obsequious unison.
As the crowds drifted back to the suburbs the people of the City would once again take pride in how much better things were these days.The City wouldn’t expect – or accept – any other reaction.
This is my entry into this week’s 100 word challenge over at Friday Fictioneers.