Ficlets

Clean energy's bad for my porch

Whoosh, whoosh, the giant wind turbines turned and turned just barely 200 yards from Brandon’s porch.
“Cursed was the day my brother accepted the check from those city sleeks,” Brandon growled forking his food with a vengeance.
They were sitting all – Pop, Mom, Shirley, Martin, Joe, the three young ones – in the dining room of the large frame house Grandpa Elijah had built back in 1843.
“Now, hear me out on this son,” Mom, the ever-pleasing mediator said, “don’t go so angry on Jeff, he done that for the good of all of us!..”
Brandon frowned as he speared the last piece of his T-bone.
“For the good of all of us…” he mocked.
The Scatsoumie Dispatch three weeks later:”State Police is investigating a blast that damaged two wind power turbines located inside the Canyon Ranch near Dead Man’s Creek in Bouyard. CID Chief Richards said his officers have no clues so far, but are looking into all possible angles.”
Brandon sipped his coffee and lit another cigar. There was no whoosh, whoosh, and the porch was fine.

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