Scrap of Fiction

I sat across from him…..the mightiest man on the earth.
Ruler supreme.
Once more up for election as Ruler of All The Conquered Earth.
Dumbest man I had had the privilege to interview.
Even now I could not fully fathom the words that I heard come from his mouth.
‘So Mr. Supreme Ruler*** please let me see if I have this correct? Your platform for becoming the Ruler of All the Conquered Earth is based on the fact that you have kept aliens from taking over our planet. Sending us all their ugly and defeated and dumbest but you put a stop to that. You quarantined them all in steel cages. In the middle of the desert? That human kind but not all human kind is more superior to the aliens? And in the tiers of human kind there are those like yourself white males of slight intelligence at the pinnacle while all others fall below?’ sarcasm dripped from my lips as the preening dictator smiled nodding his large bulbous shaped head.
****His demand to be called such. I would prefer the Painful Puce Pompadour but I need to pay my bills.***
‘That is right Krita that is right. I have done more to keep all those unwanted aliens from earth. Making them pay more taxes. Taking their homes. Moving them into the lower income areas of cities. Allow the unnecessary to kill themselves. So easy to get that done.’
My screen went blank as some bright bulb in Painful Puce Pompadour’s entourage realized the road I was beginning to lead him down. I unhooked my mic from my collar and stood.
‘Krita come have a drink with me.’
Oily voiced. Hair the deep purple brown of a new bruise brushed into what I would have described as a ’60’s beehive constructed from a few sparse hairs woven into an almost undetectable toupee. Thick fingered. Thick browed. Thick in the head.
©Aug. 19/21
Picture via Pinterest

The Beginning

“Mama killed a man. After that first pandemic. The one they thought would only take a year of our lives. It took almost eveyone’s lives. So few of us left.”
The bed on a spinning dais held the blind man. His sightless eyes landing with unnatural accuracy on the faces that surrounded him. And there were many. Animals. Humanoids. Dreams and nightmares of childhood as the land died were able to crawl from hiding delighting in mankind’s downfall. So arrogant man was brandishing club/speak/bow/gun/chemical warfare that culminated in a land returning to nature while man tried to live within these new constricts.
“That Pandemic was the beginning. Within a year we were seeing mutations which at first were covered by the vaccines that big Pharma was suddenly able to produce in months and not years. But like all evil fighting for a threshold the virus began to change combatting vaccine after vaccine until finally…..”
His voice faded.
All around silence as the breeze rustled the leaves.
The steady beep of machines keeping him alive.
Nearly 200 years he had been on this earth.
There was no reason he could find other than he was left to tell the stories that no one wanted to hear.
©March 22/21
Picture found on Pinterest