Friday, October 28, 2016

Cornwall, Day 27 (The Town)


I had sent the email in hopes my package had arrived. It was an important package with important contents, and it carried a deadline.

“Yes, your parcel has come, Ma’am. We’ll have it laid by for you whenever you care to collect it.” Very happily, I donned shoes and coat, trotting quickly down to where my parcel awaited. It was important, dear Readers,  because it contained my voting ballot for the American election!

I dashed in to the local Chemist along the way for a few bits and pieces and while I was being rung up, the Pharmacist heard me speaking. He asked, “You’re from America?”

“Yes,” I said. “I wonder how you knew?” (haha).

“Which part of the country do you live?”

“Um, California,” I hedged.

“Ahh, lovely California. Sounds like a place I'd rather be than this one. We are watching your election quite closely over here, you know.”

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. I’m watching it a bit too, but find The Great British Bakeoff rather more entertaining.”

“What’s the general consensus? What are you all going to do?” It was a worthy question, one we have been asked at practically every turn.

“Well, there doesn’t seem to be any consensus, sir. We’ve got two people nobody really likes. It’s a conundrum..”

“What about you? Are you voting?” he pondered.

“Oh, yes. In fact, today. I'm voting today! Headed there now. Tell you what. Once the votes are counted and the winner declared, I shall come back here and discuss the resulting mayhem. Fair enough?”

“Right!” he exclaimed. “November 9, then.”



I left him with his unanswered (and unanswerable) questions and walked the rest of the way to the cottage offices. “I believe you have a package for me?”

“Oh yes, here it is..” and a lady went to fetch it for me.

“Thank you. You know, this is both a good day, and a bad day,” I said.

“Oh? And why is that?” she asked, surprised.

“It is because – this package holds my election Ballot!!!”

Every person in that office instantly turned to look at me, and gaped at the package in my hand.

“An Election ballot?!!” she almost screamed, as if she had been holding a red hot potato and had only just escaped being burned.

“Oh goodness!”
“Oh MY!”
“OH dear!” said the lot of them, in various phases of shock.

“And I’ll bet I know what your question is,” I said, looking around.

They stared and me, and waited.

“Mm-hmm, your question is what everybody has been wondering for months now, and nobody can ever guess. 'What will the Americans do?'

I opened the door, walked through it, and headed back to where I would finally add my little ‘bit’ to the answer.



See you along the way!

the SconeLady


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