Friday fictioneers on Sunday #40: one does not sell the earth upon which the people walk.

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Stands by water smiling hated white radicals, he’d hated them in the sixties and the seventies, in the eighties they seemed to have gone underground, but he knew that they loved the limelight too much for that, now it was the nineties and they were back and he hated them more than ever, their faux dreadlocks, their infantile chanting, now he was going to steal the expensive shoes that one of them left outside the community center while he went inside to make like he was down with them, one does not sell the earth upon which the people walk.

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly photo-prompt flash fiction challenge, curated by the wonderful Rochelle Wishoff-Fields, and open to anybody. Full details here.