Jovan
GA Member
- Mar 5, 2025
- 6
Bogotá, Distrito Capital
Bogota, the Capital District
Bogota, the Capital District
It's a warm sunny April day at the Capital
"Fucking hell I'm running late."
A sharply dressed man paces through the streets of the Capital. The sun's rays beat down on his light grey suit as he rushed past Colombians walking down the grey pavement. He looks at his vintage watch on his right while carrying his dark brown suitcase on his left. Sweat trickles down his face as he pushes past the foot traffic before coming to a stop waiting for the crosswalk.
A small crowd soon joins him in his wait. A woman carries her child in an old stroller while a man eats his breakfast Arepas. Alonso Mingo, the newly appointed Member of Parliament, finds himself late once again. He taps his foot on the bleached pavement, finding himself face-to-face with the Arepas to his right. The smell makes his stomach grumble. He looks to his left, noticing today's headlines being read by an older gentleman:
"LANDSLIDE WIN FOR PARTIDO LIBERAL COLOMBIANO IN PARLIAMENTARY ELECTIONS"
"ELN-FARC REBELS DEFEATED ONCE MORE- 26 KILLED IN RAID"
"URIBE: 'NO CEASEFIRE' WTIH COMMUNIST REBELS"
"Fucking communists" He muttered under his breath. And with that expletive out of the way, the light turns green for the crowd. He paces himself before taking refuge at a nearby bus stop, impatiently looking at his watch and at the Bus time table. A little girl and her mother soon join him for the wait. He looks to his left and his right once more, being interrupted by a young man seemingly in his 20's carrying a big green duffle bag who sits beside him.
"Hot day eh?" The young man asks Mingo.
"As sunny as Bogota will ever be... Summer's really coming in huh?"
"Yeah..." The young man notices Mingo's attire, the grey antique watch, and the conspicuous brown briefcase.
"Got a business meeting to attend to?" The young man asks.
"Yes, and if the Bus arrives any later it'd be a business meeting that I'd miss," Mingo replies, scoffing.
"Well. Looks like you won't wait any further, businessman."
The Bus arrives approximately two minutes late. Mingo wastes no more time as he rushes inside of the bus with the young man following closely behind. Both of them find a seat near the front as the bus approaches the next stop. Before it could make any progress, however, the bus was quickly halted by a sea of silver, blue, and red cars. Along with Mingo and the young man were your typical assortment of Colombian passengers: College students who woke up too late for school, and businessmen and women who find themselves stuck in traffic.
Before Mingo could recite what excuse he'll come up with for his superiors, he gets distracted by a tug on his left shoulder.
"Mister, you forgot this at the bus stop."
The young girl hands him an enamel pin of a bright red star. Confused, Mingo offers his hand.
"...Thanks."
The little girl and her mother then make their way to the back, as the bus driver changes the radio station to the morning news. Mingo looks stunned at the red star pin, clearly not knowing what it was.
"You a communist, mister?" The young man beside him asks.
"Dear God no! I'd rather die before being called that! I don't know what this is even."
"Be careful on what you wish for Mister... I jest, but it's the red star no? Typical commie iconography. You know why it's red, mister?"
The morning radio starts the typical news cycle.
"Good morning Bogota! We start the week with a little bit of heat as temperatures across the country slowly settle in for the Summer months. Bogota especially feeling the heat today with a scorchi.."
"Red, it's a... powerful color no?" The young man strokes his chin as he looks outside of the bus, at the bustling city. Mingo is still perplexed at the pin on his hand.
"We'll have a bit of traffic for those travelling down the main highway... reports are coming in that supporters of President Uribe are making "A show of force", well there's nothing like your typical morning rush hour being 'helped' by such large demonstrations. Along the west end of the highwa..."
"Well, for starters, the flag has red." The young man remarks as the Bus slowly makes way past the demonstrators, slowing down traffic. Flags wave across the wind as demonstrators march along the road, with boisterous laughs and chants of "VIVA COLOMBIA" and "VIVA URIBE" filling the air along with the sounds of makeshift trumpets and drums. The bus slowly weaves to the left of the group, with police officers coralling and directing traffic.
"But you know what red specifically means, mister?"
"...For the news, police raided and uncovered a communist terrorist plot in Medellin last night, thankfully, the perpetrators were handled with before anything serious could be do..."
"It's the blood of the oppressors."
The young man answers before he throws the duffle bag out of the window onto the demonstrators
An explosion rips through the heart of the city. Dozens killed, many more injured. The bus, now a flaming wreck, among a sea of bodies. Smoke fills the air as the cries of man and woman alike now replace the joyous chants. Police and Emergency services rush to the scene, as those who were lucky to escape unscathed attempt to save those injured by the blast.
"...And that's it folks, there's nothing more of note for this beautiful sunny day in the heart of our Glorious Republic."
¡Viva Colombia!
