Part 4: Worst Town Meeting Ever
Susan could tell that Cyrus' wanderlust was nearing critical mass, though she had no concept of what critical mass was. He would talk endlessly about "just throwing our stuff in the wagon and taking off", and she would always calmly remind him about the children and the business and the fact that she was happy here amongst the educated folks of Boston who had never tried to smear poop on her by waving it around on the end of a stick, a claim that could not be made of certain other places she had lived.
As she slept peacefully that night, her husband tossed and turned restlessly, images of family road trip dancing in his head. Suddenly he bolted upright and shook his slumbering wife violently.
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He slapped his wife hard across the face.
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He considered slapping her again for her insolence but it turned out she wasn't making fun of him. The next morning with great anticipation they headed over to the town hall, a bustling crowd milling about, excited to get started on their own journeys across the country. In the sweltering heat and dust they huddled together, pushing to get any view of the podium they could. Finally, as the crowd had begun to become dangerously restless and sunburned, a presenter stepped up to the box, a short, fat troll of a man, and began his speech.
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With that he promptly waddled himself away. The crowd hung around, waiting for the next presenter, but slowly began to trickle off as they realized noone else was coming.
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His wife sighed audibly.
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Well, when are they gonna leave?