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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2232576-Ripples-of-Justice
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #2232576
I made peace with my fate. But, was it really justice--or was it me all along?
The regal woman, ex-President Michaela Ryan, called to her fellow shoppers, "Why won't you vilify them?"

She pointed to the news on the overhead television. "Why won't you stop them?"

Mouths agape, the crowd stopped and stared.

She could no longer command their respect, but surely--surely, they would see. Michaela raised her arm in feeble protest. "They are doing what I did."

A compassionate woman shared her sad gaze for a time, then shrugged and turned away.

The woman knew. They all knew. One by one, she looked into people's eyes.

In turn, each looked away.

The verdict of history came through, clearer with each. Finally, President Michaela stumbled against the wall and collapsed. She mumbled to her lap, "But, they're doing what I did."

In seconds, the people by the far wall began to move. Within minutes--as if nobody of note sat there in disgrace--people once again marched through her personal space.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2232576-Ripples-of-Justice