Morning all. I hope you are having a fabulous day. Mine is windy and filled with blowing pollen. I had to concede defeat and take out my contacts in favor of glasses and my eyes are still red, but at least with the glasses I can see So vision restored and contacts soaking out the pollen they collected, lets jump into the morning prompt. Timers set for fifteen minutes and lets see what we come up with.
Interesting. I like the set up of someone opposed to both sides required to take charge of collecting opinions. I am not certain where this will go but I suspect the comments will, like him, favor neither option. Which could be an interesting set up. I’d need to figure out the particulars but I think there is something to play with there.
Wednesday, March 25th: The basket was full.
The basket was full. Rolled pages were spilling out of the top, sliding down the sides and pooling around the base of the basket. It was placed on a small plinth, elevating it so that everyone could see the basket should they wish to drop off their comments or questions. The plinth was now obscured by the mounded paper.
The papers weren’t in any danger of blowing away. To add the comment, paper was provided as well as a heavy sticker that needed to be cut to be open or it would tear the page. It was designed for privacy but the sticker added weight to the small rolls of paper keeping them in place. The basket was placed near the corner so that even though the front of the office was open to all sides, the wind was blocked. A couple of the more loosely rolled pages had corners fluttering in the breeze but on the whole people rolled them tight enough that they resembled cigarettes. It made them denser and less inclined to flap.
Peter looked at the basket as another tentative commentator approached. The overflowing basket was approached warily, the rolled up page placed on top, balanced carefully. The person dropping it off backed away slowly and looked satisfied with the placement. Peter saw the mass begin to slide. Before he could think of doing anything, Gabe was there, a second basket in hand. He caught the spill before it hit the ground and began gathering the overflow from the floor into the basket.
There were those watching. Peter knew that the watchers wondered if their comments were to be disregarded. That what they wrote would be removed. Gabe was careful to clearly put them in the basket. He kept hands away from pockets and made no moves that could be interpreted as removing the paper from the collection. Once the overflow was gathered he checked the shadows to make certain no additional rolls were lost. He made certain the original basket was still full but not overflowing and then left the second basket in front of the first. It was larger and still had space.
As he left, Gabe held his hands by his sides, hands open and clearly concealing nothing. Everyone seemed to relax as he left. Their voices would be heard. Their opinions would count.
As though they hesitated because of the overflow, there was an influx of new pages added. Long lines of people added to the new basket until it too was full. Gabe it seemed was still watching and had anticipated this. He brought out a third empty basket and placed it next to the other two. He touched nothing else and then walked away. As he did he winked at Peter. Peter stopped himself from smiling. This was after all a grave matter and he knew any sign of levity would be taken amiss. His presence here was to assure everyone things would be taken seriously and that there would be no foul play. There would be no smiles from him.
The fact that when someone trustworthy was needed to watch over the baskets and insure all of the comments were counted and read, he was the one chose n astounded him. He could only assume that as he favored no particular side he was a safe option for everyone involved. He would not try to lean the opinions of anyone one way or another. He would not discount one side so that the other was the only voice heard.
His opinions on the issue were irrelevant. That he considered the whole thing a farce with neither option presented designed to fix the problem at hand was of no consequence. I suppose despising each of them equally is as good as liking both for the purpose of this exercise,’ he thought.
Ten til Midnight 