Welcome to the product of my first writing prompt, written with the Jersey City Writers Group!
Prompt: Write about a president: past, present, or future.
Time: 10 minutes
Result:
Amy had been standing in line for forty minutes already when she remembered.
"Oh shit."
She reached into her purse, rooted around, and came up empty.
"Shitshitshit."
The mother behind her glared as she pulled her son closer. Sighing to herself, Amy darted out of line. How could she have forgotten it?
Gritting her teeth, she raced back across the parking lot, toward her Mazda. If only Ron was still at home, she could call him. But no, he had to be all punctual and go this morning. Now, she knew, he was out drinking with his friends, celebrating what he was sure would be a forgone conclusion.
Actually, on second thought, it was probably a good thing he wasn't home. He would probably have had something condescending to say about women when he saw her rushing in. Women, and women candidates.
Careening onto the highway, she thought about what Ron had said that morning at breakfast.
"Babe, no one's going to vote for HIllary. All the blacks think she's butch, all the spics think she's Republican, the women are too busy wiping spit off their kids' mouths to vote, and the men know better. Why don't you just stay home from the polls this afternoon and save yourself some frustration?"
Well, she was going to make her vote count.
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