Oliver felt the forest was weird when a pair of wooden double-doors with huge knobs appeared before him. A mayhem of voices could be heard from the inside. A bold sign read: “State Cabinet. Enter if you May.”
He knocked and the doors creaked open revealing a garden of colourful things that turned out to be sticky-notes.
“Power to the people,” read one, “lower electricity prices now!”
“For the people, of the people, by the people!” brandished another, “Faster Internet!”
A woman draped in flowers over her silky gown sat on the far fence facing an angry circle of crowds.
The guard startled him: “You May sit down. After all it’s the month of Maying!”
“Don’t you mean the month of May?”
“Maybe.” smiled the guard, “It’s a free country as long as you can pay your way.” He laughed conceitedly, then began humming: “Pay your way in May, they say. May you pay your way every day.”
Oliver sat down on one of the many benches. The old lady next to him gave him a quick glance when a voice boomed from somewhere: “Citizens, it’s the Question Hour, and we will take only the odd questions.”
Oliver exclaimed: “Why?”
The old woman gave him an amused look: “Cause we’re an oddience and May is an odd month with an odd number of letters in it!”
“Oh!”
“Can we have May the fourth declared a public holiday?” someone asked.
The floral woman scoffed: “Must be an alien from the Empire. I may or may not consider it!”
The questioner sat down in dismay.
“We have had enough of Demo-cracy! Will the final version be released soon?”
“It may or may not.” came the reply with a warning: “Beware, those are two strikes already. A third and you are all out.”
“What's happening?” Oliver was puzzled.
“She’s just been voted in and this is her first press conference.”
“But I don't see any journalists–”
“Silly boy! The citizens are pressing her for answers.”
Oliver shook his head, then asked: “But why is she on the fence?”
“Well,” replied the lady, “She is the Mayer after all.”
“Don’t you mean Mayor? And what’s with the flowers she wears?”
“Oh, you’re so dumb! Those are Mayflowers, my dear.”
Oliver nodded unknowingly. “Is she a good Mayor?”
“Who knows! It’s only the first of the month. But she’s a Mayonese so she might do fine.”
“Mayonnaise?”
“Same thing, really. By the way, the army guy who came to March was terrible.”
Oliver decided he didn’t understand elections. Besides, he had to find his way out of this crazy place. He stood up to leave when the old lady cautioned him: “Be careful of the exit poles ... oh, and the ticks!”
“Ticks??”
“Yes, the Polly Ticks. They get under your skin, suck your blood, and you don’t realise until it’s too late. Hard to get them out then!”
Oliver left with the guard’s song following him: “This May, no dismay. No mayhem, this May, ahem!”
Kanwar lives in Sydney and loves doing the write thing. He writes flash fiction, mostly. Kanwar also likes to shoot and hang things, as in photography and painting. He taps a keyboard and pushes a mouse for his "day job".
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