The Unaffectionate Session ~ Written By Our Skip

 

In the heart of Washington, D.C., where grand buildings stood as testaments to power and influence, the Congressional Chamber was abuzz with the usual clamor of debate. Yet, today, a peculiar and almost theatrical indifference blanketed the room.

Senator Larkin was at the podium, droning on about a proposed bill to improve national infrastructure—a topic that, in theory, should have sparked spirited discussion. Yet, the senators seated around him seemed more engrossed in their smartphones, sipping coffee, and casually flipping through the pages of a glossy magazine titled "The Quintessential Guide to Self-Care for the Overworked Politician."

Among them was Senator Marlowe, a woman whose reputation for aloofness was nearly as legendary as her career. She looked up briefly from her phone, where she was strategizing her next big social media post, and said, “It’s just like a reality show in here. I’m starting to think this whole government thing is overrated.”

Senator Peterson, slouched in his seat with his feet propped up on the desk, grunted in agreement. “Who cares about infrastructure? I’ve got a golf game in an hour. If the roads are bad, we’ll just take a private jet.”

Across the aisle, Representative Chen, engrossed in a puzzle book, sighed. “Honestly, if it doesn’t involve the stock market or a new tax break for luxury yachts, I’m not sure why I should pay attention.”

As Senator Larkin continued, his speech becoming more like background noise, the members of Congress conducted their own business. Some were engaged in heated discussions about which brunch spot to visit later, others were planning their next fundraising event, and a few were simply catching up on their favorite soap operas via streaming services.

“...and with this bill, we will address the growing need for modernization of our national infrastructure,” Larkin concluded, finally bringing his speech to an end. “Are there any comments or questions?”

A deafening silence followed. Larkin’s words hung in the air, unacknowledged. Senator Marlowe finally looked up and waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s just vote on it already. I’ve got a hair appointment in thirty minutes.”

The vote was swift and largely symbolic. The bill passed with minimal debate, and the members of Congress, in their usual fashion, filed out of the chamber. Their discussions resumed in the halls: who was attending the charity gala, which lobbyists were handing out the best perks, and what was the latest gossip from the Capitol’s social scene.

Outside the grand hall, where the political machinery churned on despite the indifference of its operators, a lone aide named Emily stood with a heavy heart. She had watched from the sidelines, hoping for a glimmer of genuine concern from her superiors. Instead, she saw only apathy and self-interest.

Emily knew the importance of the bill. She had worked tirelessly to ensure it addressed real issues—dilapidated bridges, crumbling roads, and underfunded public transportation systems. Yet, in the world of Congress, those concerns seemed to be as fleeting as a social media trend.

As she watched the senators drift away into their comfortable worlds, Emily sighed. “Maybe one day, they’ll remember why they’re here,” she muttered, clutching the stack of papers that represented countless hours of work and hope.

And so, with the corridors of power echoing with the sounds of insincerity and disengagement, Emily continued her fight from the sidelines. For as long as there was work to be done and citizens to serve, she would persist, hoping that someday, the Congress might rediscover the purpose beyond the façade of indifference.

In the meantime, the government moved on, carried by the inertia of its own machinery, while its members basked in their detached comfort, oblivious to the profound impact of their apathy.

Thanks Skip