He looked around the museum and sighed. He had started off as in intern and within a decade had become curator responsible for buying and exhibitions. The museum had started off as an off the track shed, visited by few; now it is acknowledged by artists and dealers from around the world and needs a ticket system to control the many visitors, both national and international.
But the locals never took to the place, didn’t recognize its value, and now a syndicate has planning permission to knock it down and put in a stock car racetrack.
He loaded his gun.
Written for the 100 word challenge from Friday Fictioneers.