A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: Takeover

A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: Takeover

It started at the North end of the city, near the Cy factories. No one admitted to knowing how it started, but in these things, no one ever did. One witness said it was the generator, another the production furnace, and yet another claimed the offices. That last one was what we focused on, while the company went with the first.

Corporate line rules all.

I saw that spray painted on a wall once. Back before the fire I’d have thought it was some paranoid’s rambling, but not after. We never got a team into the offices, never had the forensics from the generator. All we got was a report: problem found. Some bullshit about a flaw in the wiring or the metal or both. It was a clever work of fiction, I’ll give them that.

But in the end, it didn’t matter, not to the people who lived in the city. That fire burned hot and it burned wide, and we’re lucky more people didn’t die. If the company wanted to admit fault, no one was going to argue with where they put the flashpoint.

All they cared about was restitution, and where they were supposed to live now that their homes were charcoal. There were plans to sue, negligence or something, but then the company stepped up without legal pressure, laid down the cash to rebuild the city. Everyone said it was a sign the corps cared after all, that they had hearts.

They bought us all, and we thanked them for it.

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