Afterword

Night school, the free health clinic and her family filled the years so smoothly. She loved her children, they became adults and she was suddenly older.

Near the end, she walked each morning with small steps among the trees, thinking of her Namibian desert home. Eventually she fell. For a night and a day she lay buckled on the cold floor. When the doctor finally came, he found an old woman, hysterical, shouting and demanding a particular cedar drawer be brought to her without delay. He found the drawer and as instructed, pulled it out and handed it to her. She rummaged and then, triumphant, produced the dull metallic sphere of the Democracy Device. The doctor could not make out her words and grew alarmed when she brandished the Device, clearly imagining she could use it to pay for medical help.

Running our own parallel institutions, using Assemblies that use Councils, minimising representation, talking, deciding, avoiding corruption, rotating offices and random selection, practicing democratic leadership among polluted institutions, running with a teeming mind beneath the tyranny, we work and wait.

The Democracy Device subsequently reappeared in a charity shop in the North London neighbourhood of Barnet, labeled merely ‘Shot’.

[Device Ends]

DD

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