Some Super Apple Carts Need Flipping Over
20250407
Prompt from DailyPrompt.com
“-and now they’re threatening to kick me out of the League!” Heather buried her face in her hands, shoulders quaking. Profoundly grateful that the cafe was almost empty, and the other regulars were politely pretending she didn’t exist.
“That’s discrimination, surely?” Abdul frowned. “You can’t fire someone for wanting maternity leave! I can recommend a good-”
“They’re not my employer, that’s the thing.” Heather groped in her purse for tissues. “It’s more a, a professional club or something.”
“Still!” Abdul leant on the counter, his brows furrowed in concern. “Think what kind of message this sends. You’ve been a hardworking member of the League for years, now you’re taking on the sacred responsibility of raising the next generation of Supers, and they don’t just refuse to support you, they try to push you to the wings? Disgraceful!”
Heather grimaced into her coffee. “Everyone says the same thing to me in private, but none of them are willing to say anything where it counts. They’re worried about what will happen if we fracture the League, which I understand, I do, I just… I don’t know what to do.”
“Tsk!” Abdul clicked his tongue, his moustache bristling. “Nothing new under the sun. It’s the same with any vital work - some asses will hold the work hostage so they get away with abusing power. We can’t stand for it.”
He squeezed her hand and topped up her mug. “Now, I don’t know how you Supers handle these things. But I know how everyone else does. And let me tell you, there’s no point talking to the people at the top. No. What you need to do is find the aunties. And uncles. I can connect you to the ones I know, and they’ll help you find yours.”
“O-oh, I don’t…” Heather bit her lip. “I don’t want to upset everything.”
Abdul gave a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling so for a moment he looked his age. “Ah, for all the weight on your shoulders, you’re a child still.” He plonked a steaming PB&J panini in front of her. “Here, get that down you while I call my sister. She’ll know what to do.”
“I… alright.” Heather returned the smile, her posture slowly relaxing until she was sitting straight once more. A little of that weight he’d mentioned slipping off as the other regulars broke their polite isolation to offer support.
A fresh pack of tissues wordlessly dropped on the counter next to her.
A scribbled note with a lawyer’s number. “He helps people who work for charities and stuff, maybe he can point you in the right direction?
Murmured commiseration. Offers to write letters, share her story, whatever would help. Even the brief sympathetic smiles eased a scrap of what hung around her neck.
If these people, mundanes, exactly who the League swore to protect, thought it was worth her pushing for this, then…
Heather squared her shoulders and picked up the sandwich. She was fighting for two, after all.
Prompt was “Write about the protagonist getting something off their chest.”