Three Word Wednesday

educate, object, silence


"We are a people prone to silence," the mayor said, grasping the sides of the podium.  His grip was white, his fingers tapping against the edge of the wood.  He did not need a microphone. The throng of people, young and old, that curved in a graceful half-moon around the wooden dais were silent, not even a rustle of clothes accounting for their numbers.


"A people prone to silence," the mayor said again, clutching at the tie at his throat. It was too tight of a sudden. Sweat dripped against the wood, falling from his forehead.  The crowd watched dispassionately, quietly assessing.  The mayor gasped and removed his tie with one convulsive twist of his hand.


"You have failed us, Mayor Sorren," came a quiet voice from the center of the crowd.  It could have been the voice of the crowd, for all that one person could be distinguished from the mass.  No one moved, no one appeared to have spoken.


"You said you were going to educate us, Mayor Sorren. To raise us up from the shackles of illiteracy and drudgery."  Another voice, another corner of the crowd.  Mayor Sorren glanced frantically from face to face of the gathered. No one had moved.


"You gifted us with books, you opened our roofs to the skies."


"You taught us arithmetic, you showed us how to streamline our lives, our processes."


Mayor Sorren opened the top two buttons on his shirt, pulling at his collar, mopping at the profusion of sweat with his sleeves.  The crowd advanced as one. One step forward so the front row and their unmoving stare was pressed against the edge of the dais.


"And now," the crowd said, hundreds of voices lifted as one, "Now you forbid us from leaving, from spreading the wings you bestowed upon us and sharing our knowledge with the rest of the world."


Mayor Sorren took a step back, shaking his head, holding his hands out in front of him.


"No," he stammered.  "No, not that, never that. We are a silent people! An enigma! A myth!"


The crowd's anger shook the boards of the dais and Mayor Sorren staggered.  


"No, Mayor Sorren.  We are a hungry people."


Mayor Sorren's scream was cut off before it could fully escape his body. The crowd dispersed within a few minutes. Silent, moving statues.  


What was left of the mayor was merely an object. A hand raised in supplication, a sheen of sweat. One button that settled against an edge in the wood.