They never really taught us about empire and no one ever talked about the effects still being felt. Growing up I only ever heard good things. The things that were only good for colonists.
While in a rickshaw, I looked forward and watched the man pulling me forward. Those old, golden days were much like this, I thought - if I’d had a rifle pointed at his head.
Until that moment I had been walking around full of satisfaction, of pride. It turned to sickness before I stopped the ride, had a brief chat with my driver, and started to learn.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt (see here for other stories):