Sheesh, it wasn't like Mom had anything to do with it. Molly watched the news footage, while mopping a corner of the livingroom.

It was saturday, and while they both - Molly moreso - had enjoyed their mother and daughter weekend, but it didn't take a genius to figure, mom missed dad - bigtime!  Neither did it take a current-events whiz to figure out what was causing the protesters to be more hyena-ish as usual.   Molly rolled her eyes at the can't-please-no-how--no-way crowd - Gram Schlafly's way of describing people who wanted everything their own way - and nuts to anyone else.

The trade agreement between the us and russia spelled, not only JOBS!!!  But jobs that paid sustainable wages, for both americans and russians.  And ESPECIALLY farmers.  Russia needed wheat, and would need more - especially since, there were already more Russians.  The ban had - sometime during, or just after the war - gone into effect.  As for protests?  Probably not, for the most part.

From what Molly had been able to determine - though separating real news from fake...goodluckwiththat; the United Russian States, was still, in a way, soviet - over there, you either conform to certain standards, or - at best - end up very embarrassed.  Oh what was the name of that punker group?  Molly had been midway in  10th grade, when, before millions of viewers, the five members - none of whom had chosen to be identified as either male or female...  Anyway, five rear ends likely had difficulty sitting down for several days.  

Yep, our too-outspoken teenage heroine had a good chuckle, watching the footage.  Come the next day, during current-events class ... that was serious.   The mere act of raising her hand, to give a response to the teacher's question ...  "ba-but, it's their nation, we can't just..."  Long story short, not only did several classmates make the remainder of the year, uh, sometimes less than pleasant, but a few teachers as well.  But she'd gotten through okay - much thanks to her kid brother.  Robert had taught her how to keep from getting beat up.  

"Whoa, WHOA, what th' *CK??"  the mop handle slid to the floor.  

"Molly Elizabeth Waterfeld, I heard that!" June's voice called from the family's home office.

"MOM!  They just upturned a car, and some guy was in it."  Molly continued watching the screen.  The police, even with the recent staffing upramps, weren't quite enough to stay the rioters.  The mobs - these, not in New York, or Washington, but in the normally quiet Harristown; their state's capitol.  "And why the labor and industry building?  They're about JOBS!  What the hey?"

"Some people are just beyond reason."  June passed from the livingroom into the kitchen.  "Would you like some coffee too?"

What?  Molly eyes became saucers.  It was like ww freaking 3 was kicking off...coffee??

A few moments later, her mom returned, sitting two mugs on the coffee table.  "Surely,

you didn't expect this all to pass, without pushback."  Both women sat on the sofa, sipping their beverage.

"Well, not so...sheesh, miss the news for...what?  not even two days...  Both women had been busy cutting fabric, and making clothing.   "oh my God!"

A bomb had exploded, sending limbs...  The screen went blank, but not quick enough for viewers to see bits of gore spattered upon the camera lense.

For a moment, both women sat dazed and dumbfounded.  June wearing some of her coffee, the cup lay upon the rug, the handle peeking from beneath the coffee table.  "Mom, that was just a stunt.  Right?"  Molly then bolted for the little powder room, which sat between the kitchen and the back foyer.