The Ballot Box in the Dark Night

A submission for the weekly short-short story note project

Preface

Suffrage.
That is something for humans.
……Or so it was supposed to be.

However, one night,
what I heard from the radio
was a story I simply could not ignore.

This is a black market.
What is being sold here?
Justice, poison, or perhaps words?

Main Text

This is a black market where cobras are bought and sold.

A parliamentary broadcast plays on the radio,
and someone is climbing onto the podium, shouting.

“Cobras can only live in the world of darkness.
Who did this? This world is unfair.
You politicians are the ones who created this unfairness.

Instead of just talking about reflection,
you should show us reforms that cut into your own flesh.

I hereby declare.
I am advocating for cobra suffrage,
so listen well to what I have to say.”

Ah, they are surrounded by security guards.

Screams are rising here and there.
It’s a cobra.

Everyone,
there is a cobra in the National Diet Building.

Pee... peeee...

Oh, I can’t hear it anymore.
I wonder what happened.

“Hey, they were talking about cobra suffrage, do you know about it?”
“I don’t know anything about that.”

“What matters to us is
whether we can eat tomorrow, you know.”

“That’s true.
But maybe we should study a little bit.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

The end. (380 characters)

Afterword

Even if you have the right to vote,
even if there is poison,
if you're hungry, you can't go on living.

The more correct words fly about,
the more our feet,
always remain in the same place.

Is it a story about a cobra,
or a story about humans?

......I don't really know that either.
※This story is fiction.

I wrote this for the weekly short-short note prompt. Thank you for the prompt.