[Original: Drabble] "Freedom of Choice" [Jones & Howell, G]
Title: Freedom of Choice
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 independence day
Word Count: 355
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Jones & Howell ‘verse)
Summary: Jones and Howell walk a patrol on the Fourth of July.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Freedom of Choice
“Nothing says ‘American independence’ like illegal fireworks,” I said, as another loud pop! went off somewhere nearby.
Howell and I had heard dozens of them since we’d started walking our patrol, but we didn’t have the time to investigate every noise, so general policy was to ignore them unless we had a good reason not to. So far, we’d only had to give stern lectures to a few high school-age kids with fire crackers, but we were trying to stay alert.
“You know,” I continued, when my partner didn’t say anything. “This would be a lot easier if it wasn’t legal to buy fireworks, but not to set them off.”
“It’s your own fault for expecting laws to be reasonable, rookie,” said Howell. “Just be glad we’ve got modern medicine to go along with these pyrotechnics, nowadays.”
“Is there a gory tale to go along with those words of wisdom, sir?” I asked.
Howell scowled at me for a moment. “Summer of twenty-eight, the year before the crash-” that was what he called the Great Depression, like anyone else who’d actually lived through it, “-some rich young idiots got hold of some fireworks from Chinatown.”
“I thought the Chinese made good fireworks?” I said.
“They did - the Chinese New Year displays were a marvel, especially before the spread of electricity and light pollution. But they were also known for their care and safety in the handling of volatile materials.”
“Ah,” I said. “And rich idiots, not so much?”
“There were several fires,” my partner said. “The surrounding area was mostly low-income tenements, and six people died.”
I scowled at him. “That was not the be-careful-with-explosives morality tale I was expecting, sir,” I said, accusingly.
“Not everything works out the way we’d like it to, Jones. Freedom to make our own choices also means freedom to make bad ones.”
“That’s deep, sir,” I said, as another illegal firework went off somewhere on the next block. We were both silent for a moment, listening, but there were no distressing sounds. “I wonder if the corn dog cart on Walnut is still open.”
Howell snorted. “Exactly.”
THE END
Current Mood:
blah
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 independence day
Word Count: 355
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Jones & Howell ‘verse)
Summary: Jones and Howell walk a patrol on the Fourth of July.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Freedom of Choice
“Nothing says ‘American independence’ like illegal fireworks,” I said, as another loud pop! went off somewhere nearby.
Howell and I had heard dozens of them since we’d started walking our patrol, but we didn’t have the time to investigate every noise, so general policy was to ignore them unless we had a good reason not to. So far, we’d only had to give stern lectures to a few high school-age kids with fire crackers, but we were trying to stay alert.
“You know,” I continued, when my partner didn’t say anything. “This would be a lot easier if it wasn’t legal to buy fireworks, but not to set them off.”
“It’s your own fault for expecting laws to be reasonable, rookie,” said Howell. “Just be glad we’ve got modern medicine to go along with these pyrotechnics, nowadays.”
“Is there a gory tale to go along with those words of wisdom, sir?” I asked.
Howell scowled at me for a moment. “Summer of twenty-eight, the year before the crash-” that was what he called the Great Depression, like anyone else who’d actually lived through it, “-some rich young idiots got hold of some fireworks from Chinatown.”
“I thought the Chinese made good fireworks?” I said.
“They did - the Chinese New Year displays were a marvel, especially before the spread of electricity and light pollution. But they were also known for their care and safety in the handling of volatile materials.”
“Ah,” I said. “And rich idiots, not so much?”
“There were several fires,” my partner said. “The surrounding area was mostly low-income tenements, and six people died.”
I scowled at him. “That was not the be-careful-with-explosives morality tale I was expecting, sir,” I said, accusingly.
“Not everything works out the way we’d like it to, Jones. Freedom to make our own choices also means freedom to make bad ones.”
“That’s deep, sir,” I said, as another illegal firework went off somewhere on the next block. We were both silent for a moment, listening, but there were no distressing sounds. “I wonder if the corn dog cart on Walnut is still open.”
Howell snorted. “Exactly.”
THE END
Current Mood:
blah