Power to the People

Author’s Note: This is a response to the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson explaining a theme in the story, power.

When I say lottery, what do u think of? Do you think of money and happiness or death and sorrow? In the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson the lottery is not what we think, it is between life and death. In this cured town, if you get an evil black dot on your slip of paper you have been chosen to be stoned to death by your friends, enemies and loved ones. The worst part about is you can’t do anything about it because the government is in total power. One of the main themes in the story “The Lottery” is power because the government has total power in the town.
First off, the government makes you go to this town meeting and even worse you can be picked to be stoned to death. The government had complete control over the town and they wanted to remind you of that with this annual lottery. This kind of power is not good because it is a cruel way for someone to die. Think, what if your kids and friends were throwing little pebbles at you to your death? Do you think that would be your pleasurable way to die? I know I don’t think so. The Government in the town is cruel, I know for a fact I could not watch my mother being stoned to death. Government should not tell you when to do something and how you are going to die unless you have maybe committed a crime or have to pay a bill.

In conclusion, the government in the short story “The Lottery” has total control but in a very cruel way. They have control over too much in their town and they kill innocent people annually just because it’s a tradition. The cruelest thing about it is they make everybody in their town kill them by throwing rocks at them, even their children.

My Wishes

Author's Note: This piece is in the point of view of a sad, lonely Marigold that is the last one in the flower bed.

Dear Keeper of this Ground,

Hello. Remember me? I was your favorite flower about 2 months back. You would feed me with care every day. My petals were orange with a slight pink hue. I sat here happy, every day talking to my friends and swaying in the wind. I loved the feel of airstream through my tough petals. Those were the days; I use to love my life and couldn’t wait for those breezy summer days.

But, that was then and this is now. I am now the only one in the flower bed outside your bedroom window. I have wilting petals and I hate the wind, all it does is make it harder to keep my petals attached. I have two petals left; I would give up anything for my old life back.

All I am asking for is some water, a little love, and a few friends. I know that my time may be coming for this year but I’ll be back in about 8 months after the evil white fluff leaves. When that time comes I would really like some friends, I love having a nice petal to petal conversation with them.

Please don’t forget me,

Georgina your marigold