Equals

“Hurry up with those bricks!” the manager screamed.

The workers glared at him but moved faster, wheeling bricks to the concrete slab.

Looking at his watch, the manager scowled. “This building isn’t going to make itself. If you work harder, maybe one day you’ll be my equal.”

The group of men laughed and shook their heads. They spoke in their native tongue, their words meaningless to the manager.

“What are you saying? Speak English!”

They looked at him with contempt, and a man stepped forward before answering, “Learn our language and find out, then maybe someday you’ll be our equal.”

From Guest Contributor Caitlyn Palmer

Where Did All The Anger Go?

She raged against the shackles that fashion lashed around her body, that gender weighed upon her soul, and she spit and she clawed and she cursed the names of the boys who mocked her aspirations.

Until she fell in love with a man and he told her lies about what was possible and she managed to stop cursing all the boys and their contempt. The aspersions weren't gone but just forgotten as she slowly bled to death.

She'd once promised to burn herself to ashes but that was long ago. Now she asked herself "Where did all the anger go?"

In Which We Get Multiple Points Of View

"I was provoked!"

Dennis plead his case with the self-assurance of someone who refused to consider another point of view. Amy pitied him.

"It doesn't matter what he said to you. You can't just punch someone."

Amy's pacifism, for all its naiveté, no longer had even a slight element of cuteness. Dennis knew firsthand how ugly the world could actually be.

The couple continued their argument, their voices drifting across the park. Emily shook her head. It was obvious they were terrible for each other.

Dixon watched the lonely woman, her contempt written plain. "Judge not lest ye be judged."

Loner

Worst thing about having a drunken Da who pissed people off was that Malachy tended to suffer from ‘trickle-down’ syndrome: friendships nurtured in his own child-like manner evaporating as parents infected would-be playmates with their contempt for his father.

He crouched over the little burn on farmland close to his suburban home watching the tadpoles emerge from frogspawn, eager to claim a hopper for his very own.

There was a sizeable puddle in his backyard courtesy of poor drainage.

The leprous ache inside expanded to form tundra.

Still, it was quiet, and the symphony of wind and wildlife was wonderful.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

The Raven

George hated the raven outside his window. For weeks it had perched on the sill, staring in at him. He thought about shooting it, but he could barely kill a spider. Besides, he didn't have a gun.

He hated the way the raven mocked him. The silent condemnation of his friends and family was bad enough, but the raven held nothing back, insulting the way George dressed, the way he ate his cereal, the fact he was a virgin.

Eventually George decided to move to another neighborhood. The raven watched him leave with contempt but he kept his beak shut.

Outcome Blindness

Judge Lehman banged her gavel, demanding silence.

"One more outburst and I will find you all in contempt." The watchers reluctantly sat back down, their grumbles still filling the room. The judge asked the defendant to continue.

"As I was saying, the numbers clearly indicated there was an overwhelming likelihood the conflict would be resolved with a minimal loss of life. We forecast there was only a tenth of a percent chance we'd have more than 100 casualties."

The prosecuting attorney pressed on. "Over three million citizens died."

"Yes, but this was an extreme outlier. You obviously don't understand statistics."