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Rod Raglin
a book bubble about
Finding Meaning, Making Sense - An Anthology of Short Stories & Poetry - 2022-2025
Literature & Fiction
Author Insight
When politics gets personal
A personal tragedy just before a crucial vote makes an aspiring politician question his decision–and his ambition. BROTHERS is a short story in Finding Meaning, Making Sense, An Anthology of Short Stories and Poems, 2022 – 2025, includes the section, The Zeitgeist of Our Times, with stories and poems about contemporary issues. Pre-order it now at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003DS6LEU
Book Excerpt
Finding Meaning, Making Sense - An Anthology of Short Stories & Poetry - 2022-2025
“Will you join me on the front steps, Councilor Bennett, or are you too gutless?” she shouted.His most vociferous opponent, Swanson was smart, tough and, in the beginning, fair, until public opinion began favouring Chris’s position.“I wouldn’t go out there, Councilor,” Amy said. “There’s no telling what those people might do.”“Thanks, Amy, I’ve got this,” Chris said.“The council meeting is in twenty minutes,” the young woman said, then quickly left closing the office door.Swanson planted her hands on his desk and leaned toward him. “Well?”“There’s nothing more to say, Libby. We’ve had this debate what, six times? Once even on national television.”“I just want you to face the people who’ve lost children, partners and friends and tell them you’re going to vote to make it worse.”Three years ago, the city had entered into a program to fund safe injection sites, supervised locations with medical staff where substance abusers could inject illicit drugs. The goals of the harm reduction program had been to reduce overdose deaths, get addicts into rehabilitation programs and improve public order. Initially, the public had been supportive – until the high-minded objectives of the activists, academics, health professionals and politicians like Swanson collided with the harsh reality of the drug culture.“Face the facts, Libby, the program isn’t working. The assumption that having access to information would encourage drug users to move into treatment and recovery was vastly exaggerated. Overdose deaths keep increasing.”“It’s because there’s not enough safe supply.”“And a good thing,” Chris said. “According to the police, most of the regulated, pharmaceutical-grade opioids prescribed to addicts under the program are being resold to organize crime and the money used to buy fentanyl.”“Bullshit!” Swanson shouted. “Don’t you get it? The longer we keep these people alive the more chance for rehabilitation. If we close these sites more will die–”“Not if we redirect the funds toward rehabilitation,” Chris countered. “And what about the rest of the citizens? Those residents who have seen their neighbourhoods devolve into open-air drug markets and put up with noise, filth and erratic behaviour from the homeless addicts living and sleeping in the streets. What about the small businesses in the areas that have been devastated? Don’t they matter?”“People are dying and you’re worried about noise and litter!” Swanson slammed her palms on the desk, her face flushed, eyes bulging.“I won’t join you on the front steps,” Chris said, “but you’d better get going. Council convenes at two which means you’ve only got fifteen minutes.”“Fuck you, you reactionary son-of-a-bitch,” she shouted, spittle forming on the corners of her mouth. She headed for the door, then turned, “I’ll tell them you’re too busy looking at plans to redecorate the mayor’s office than to save lives!” She flung the door open and stormed out.
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