On the largest island of Inner Inner Darkipelago, a group of people found themselves living in close proximity and sharing things and sometimes arguing with one another. At first they didn’t have a name for this sort of arrangement, but then they understood that they must be living in a small city. No one in Darkipelago had ever lived in a city, and once they figured out what was happening – that they were, in fact, living in a city – a man named Brian unilaterally declared himself the mayor. He picked up a broom and said, “Whoever holds this broom is the mayor.” Everybody looked at the broom. It was just a normal broom – or it had been up until that moment. Now it was something that conferred status and power. No one had ever paid much attention to Brian before this. He was polite enough but could be frosty and standoffish. Most people who met him wondered why Brian didn’t like them. He never came right out and said, “I don’t like you,” but almost everyone who met him suspected that Brian strongly disapproved of them.
A person named Sorrow who appeared neither male nor female said, “But that’s my broom. I, like, just made it this morning.” Brian gave Sorrow a stern look. “Really,” she said (overwhelmed by the sheer inertia of it, Sorrow tended to think of herself as more ‘she’ than ‘he,’) “That’s my broom. I, like, just made it this morning.”
Brian ordered a woman named Phyllis to arrest Sorrow for attempting to overthrow the fledgling government. Phyllis, who had never noticed Brian before and didn’t quite know what to make of this situation, began to walk toward Sorrow and Sorrow began to back away with a look of disbelief on her face. Brian said, “I am the mayor of this city.” Phyllis drew closer and closer to Sorrow. She wasn’t walking very quickly, but she was walking more quickly than Sorrow was edging away from her, so the distance between them narrowed, much to Phyllis’s chagrin. Phyllis had never arrested anyone and wasn’t sure how to go about it. What was she supposed to do when she reached Sorrow? She thought about asking Brian but when she turned to say something he gave her such a grim look – a look cut from the stone of authority – that she immediately returned her attention to Sorrow and even quickened her pace a little.
Brian said, “You must all pay taxes now so that we can build a jail for Sorrow.”
Normally Darkipelagans only used their money to eat in the beautiful restaurants which were dotted throughout the islands. They had never had to pay taxes to build a jail or anything else, but this idea of pooling their money in order to build things which could then be used by everyone struck a chord.
A woman named Marsha said, “Are we going to build a theatre? If so, I would really love to work there. I mean, I don’t have to be, like, the boss or anything, but I’ve always wanted to work in a theatre.”
Brian said, “First we will build the jail and then we will build the theatre.”
“That seems a little backwards to me,” said Sorrow, who was still inching away from Phyllis. “I think we need a theatre first. With a gigantic bar in it. Because I could really use a drink.”
Phyllis said, “You are under arrest.” Awkwardly, she took hold of Sorrow’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. Brian looked on gravely as Phyllis and Sorrow held hands.
Out of the side of her mouth, so that Brian wouldn’t see, Phyllis whispered, “I think that’s a wonderful idea about the bar,” and then she blushed. Phyllis had known Sorrow for a long time and had always wanted to go to a bar with her and have a few drinks.
An old man named Ron who always had a crow perched on his shoulder said, “Hey, what’s this city called? I make maps. I need to put this city on the map.”
Everyone looked at Brian. Even the crow on Ron’s shoulder turned its head and gazed at him – though with an incredulous look on its face. The crow really could not understand what was happening to everyone all of a sudden. Why were they allowing this other man to tell them what to do? Normally the crow just had to fly up into the air and beam aerial views down into the old mapmaker’s head – that was his job – but he was beginning to think that he might have to rein in this Brian character.
Ron’s question seemed to stump Brian. It was a very good question, and he didn’t have an answer for it. He really hadn’t seen this coming. And right there in front of the entire city’s population, Brian had a momentary lapse of confidence. Oh man, perhaps I’m not mayoral material after all…. But then he remembered the broom in his hand and the power of his office surged back into his veins.
“Why don’t you tell us what the name of our city is, Ron? If you make maps, you must know the names of many cities.”
Marsha said, “Let’s call it London.”
“That’s a ridiculous name,” said Brian.
Marsha started to cry a little. Despite her wildly extroverted behavior she considered herself an introvert and was thus very sensitive to the criticism of her peers and also her mayor.
Sorrow leaned over and gave Phyllis a little kiss. She just couldn’t help herself. The moment Phyllis took her hand, a shock went through her body and she fell in love with her. Which was very strange. She had known Phyllis for years! She found her attractive enough – she was really quite pretty, actually – but had never considered falling in love with her. It was something about the touch of her skin.
Sorrow said, “I think I may have to change my name again.”
Phyllis said, “I love your name. It’s a beautiful name.”
They kissed again, and this time they touched each other’s faces with their hands. Everyone except for Brian found this display of affection between police officer and criminal very moving. Marsha said, “Oh my god, that’s so cute!”
Brian said, “Stop that over there.”
Ron was still trying to think of the city’s name. Nothing came to mind. He wasn’t the brightest of mapmakers. The crow on his shoulder generally did most of his thinking for him, but at the moment the crow was beside himself. Beyond exasperated at the strange and incomprehensible scenario unfolding before his beady little eyes, the crow decided it was time to intervene, and so he tapped right into Ron’s mind and took over.
To Ron’s surprise he found himself saying, “You don’t have to listen to that guy.”
Everybody looked at Ron. Ron looked at the crow who ordered him (telepathically) to look back at Brian. Ron looked back at Brian and said, “Just because he picked up a broom doesn’t mean he can tell you to stop kissing each other. Well, he can, I suppose, but it doesn’t mean you have to listen to him. I mean, come on! This is unbelievably ridiculous. He’s just another person. He’s just like you. And that’s just a broom!” The crow made Ron raise his hand and point at the broom.
Now everyone looked at Ron in bewilderment. Why was Ron the old mapmaker attacking the mayor like this? The crow sighed. “Look. A city doesn’t necessarily need a mayor, you know. You can form a committee of sorts, a kind of murder… strike that, bad word… and by working together you can build your theatre and bar and whatever else you need for your city. You… I mean we must all work together. We will build our city from the ground up and it will be a great city. All of Darkipelago will come here to see it and learn from us. We will have libraries and gardens and opera houses. We will care for the ill and the elderly and we will provide refuge for those whom fortune has denied a roof.” Brian chuckled in disbelief, but the crow was undeterred. “Our city will have world class dining establishments, theatres and concert halls.” Now Brian made a very rude scoffing noise but no one paid any attention to him. They were enraptured by Ron’s thrilling vision for their new city. The crow thought he had better tone it down a little, however. He could see they were starting to get that look that they sometimes got. “My point, though, is that we must do this together. In cooperation and mutual aid. One for all and all for one. Let the people lead and all that. Personally I would start out with a public healthcare system and a fire station or two. Something along those lines. But you’ll figure it out. Now Brian, be a good sport and give Sorrow back her broom.”
Everyone looked at Brian now, fearful of what he would do next. It was a delicate moment. Would he step down from power? Or would he order Phyllis to arrest Ron. He stood very still with a very serious look on his face. All of Inner Inner Darkipelago held its breath. The crow cleared its throat. Marsha dropped to her knees and moaned. Phyllis and Sorrow squeezed each other’s hands, but they were also desperate for this scene to conclude so that they could go somewhere private and tear each other’s clothes off. Ron tried to think of the city’s name but kept drawing a blank. And the witches on the isles of Far Outer Darkipelago shuddered and shook in their bowers as they sensed a current turning in the air.
Finally Brian shrugged and said, “Well, it was worth a try,” and he trudged over and handed Sorrow her broom.
Sorrow shouted, “I am the mayor now! Phyllis, arrest Brian.”
The crow flapped its wings and cawed.
“Just kidding,” said Sorrow.
“So then, are we anarchists now?” said Brian.
“Yes,” said the crow in Ron’s voice, “yes, I genuinely hope so.”
The old mapmaker then took out his map and drew a tiny star on it. “Look, that’s us right there,” he said proudly, and the citizens gathered round him so that they could all see where they were.
Kevin Spaide has published dozens of stories, most recently in Electric Literature, Weird Lit Magazine, and Ghost Parachute. He lives in Madrid.