100-Word Fiction: ‘The Surveyor’

The first we knew was when the surveyor came to the village with measuring equipment. And armed guards.

Then the trucks and helpers came and a fence was built between our houses and the subsistence crops. They lifted the vegetables too early and threw them away.

We villagers shouted and asked many questions as they sowed the land for palm oil. An official arrived in a black car and explained to us about money and poverty.

With our harvest gone we now must get jobs to earn money to buy food. Work is far away and we have no cars.

Advertisements

Author: MW Bewick

Writer of poetry and place; editor and journalist. Co-founder of Dunlin Press. 'Scarecrow', a debut collection of poetry is available now from http://dunlinpress.bigcartel.com

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s