There is a little shoreline town in Connecticut where many former New Yorkers live. The residents of this little town like to refer to it as a village. That term was started by one of the old-line realtors in her ads to attract these very people who would be attracted by such a manipulative term, and soon picked up by the rest of the realtors and then the locals. Not the original locals, mind you, but the new locals who have taken over the boards of education, finance and zoning and who say things like NIMBY (not in my back yard) and NO-NE-DE (no new development). These locals want their village to be quaint and not grow. They want to live in a village that they’ve never seen but like to imagine they have.
The original locals still own the land, many of the businesses, and are spoken of as “Swamp Yankees” by the new locals. They think a village is something found in a fairy tale and of the new locals as pretentious carpetbaggers. The new locals think of the old locals as bumpkins.
They are true natural enemies, so when the killings started no one was really surprised.
This is a reprint of work originally published in The Scruffy Dog Review.
Paul Beckman is an oft-published author of flash and micro fiction. He earned his MFA at Bennington College. His new collection is out from Big Table Publishing, Peek. Beckman’s published story website is http://paulbeckmanstories.com. Some magazine publications: Playboy, Litro, Connecticut Review, PANK Magazine, Literary Orphans, and Metazen, amongst others.