Dear diary, today we made a small nation smaller. Then we had lunch: pastrami on rye. We were out of money so we nixed elementary school arts programs. Lord knows we don't need any more fourth graders with recorders. After that we played handball with some entrepreneurs—and won. It was Happy Hour before we realized we’d bought a half million homes on credit. Not again! Luckily, we were ready to hire 100,000 new builders. Only problem? They’ll have to telecommute—from India. Hey, this is globalism in action, right? That’s what we’re doing, right, diary? Yeah, I thought so.
one hundred word story #52: Politics
The candidate was up in the polls until the first woman came forward. His campaign manager assured him that it was nothing; what difference did one measly affair make? Then the second woman, his former employee, called the press. Best to address it now, his manager said; nip it in the bud. But it was too late. The women, they came out of the woodworks. They showed up at his restaurant. They met him on the golf course. They occupied city streets. On election day, they surrounded his car. Your voice might be loud, they said, but your words—powerless.