Then the first nuke went off, and in an instant the world was a few million people emptier.Ive been a bit distracted lately with other things, but Im back (I think) and plan on starting to post more often again (although as I recall Ive said similar things in the past, and look how that went).A little while ago I submitted a short story to the most recent round of NPRs Three Minute Fiction Contest.
The rules of the contest are that the story must be based on the contest prompt (in this case, all stories must be about a US president, real of fictional), and all stories must be under 600 words. I think the final version turned out well, but I did miss those extra words, so I thought Id post the original, uncut version here. A drop of sweat inched its way down his cheek; his fingers twitched to the rhythm of his pulse. To his right a massive clock beeped with each passing second. He stared sightlessly down at the panel as disjointed images flashed across his paralyzed brain. Was it really only six years since the first election The memories that had once been so clear now felt stale and far away. Like a postcard from the past a fragment of recollection fell into his hands; an arenahe couldnt remember the name or the placefilled to capacity with his supporters, all cheering and chanting his name. All his grand plans had gone down the drain as more pressing issues made themselves heard. Troops were mobilized, the draft was reinstated, and the nation held its breath as the world went mad. He lost weight, his hair turned gray, and he aged a decade in four years. When the time came once again for his battered country to choose their leader his rivals screamed for blood. His character was attacked and his leadership questioned as everything came tumbling down around him. In the end all his competition just fell away, probably realizing it would be easier for the historians if they only had one person to blame for the collapse of civilization. But it wasnt his fault; he hadnt started the war, hed tried to stop it Hed done everything right and still it had all come tumbling down. And if he was honest with himself, that was what really hurt. Not the casualties, not the famine, not the hopeless, endless war. No, what really pissed him off was that it had happened to him, during his tenure. Hed wanted to change the world, to fix the nation and usher in a new golden age of wealth and prosperity for his people. This couldnt all have waited eight years If the world had to end, it couldnt at least have the decency to wait until his presidency had ended. He could have been a hero, the last great American president. Now, though, he would be remembered as the captain whod gone down with his ship.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |