The tank-tracked wrecking ball was delivered just after midnight, the bulldozer an hour or so later. We were all asleep in our beds, expecting nothing, hearing nothing.
The fight had been going for months – restraint orders, petitions, twitter campaigns, hashtag campaigns. The media supported us and so did, we thought, the politicians.
Around the time the early morning baristas switched on their coffee makers and before we had finished our sleep-eyed breakfasts, the site foreman’s phone rang. He listened carefully, blew a whistle. Soon machinery swung into action, doing what machinery does.
Final score: City Hall 1, citizens nil.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ 100 word Friday Fictioneer challenge. We dare you!