we're just strangers. [ mayors blitz ]

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.

One of the few downsides of having declined to move into the mayor's mansion was the lack of a telephone switch board. A few years ago, he hadn't even known what that was. It took the better part of six months to get the Justice Building's phone system up to par, so that he could conference in with dignitaries and emissaries of President Snow. He wished it had taken six years; there was nothing he disliked more than the blaring static that hummed in his ear.

His desk was an absolute disgrace. Yellowed paper, an old ink stain, peanut shells. He picked through the shells, hoping to find one little morsel. He should have brought a snack. Maybe he could duck out really quick - the vending machine was just down the hallway. He stood, stretching the line, reaching for the door -

"It's about time."

"Damn," he said beneath his breath, then realized said breath was positioned right over the receiver. He scowled and trudged back to his desk. "Let's get down to business, then."

When it was his turn for the roll call, he clearly enunciated his name and district. Regalia had been practicing with him, not letting the ends of words carry on, forcing him to hurry through his usually long vowels. 'Mace' which normally sounded like a cow's mooing now sounded more like a snake, which seemed like an apt metaphor for the trajectory of his life.

Once the final Mayor reported in, the static stretched. They all had agendas, all things that their districts needed. But lacking any control over the transportation, he wasn't at all sure just how they'd assist one another. Just imaging the complications gave him a headache.

But it was nothing compared to the pain of the unraveling silence.

"I think we're a'okay here in Ten," he says, and hopes he isn't failing his neighboring districts.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh

[dars]