Ormazd´s Big Bash
Or The Farce of Life
By Russell Rosander
“Thwack.” The sound of the flyswatter hitting the desk was startling in it´s intensity. The fly buzzed lazily away in a crazy zig-zag pattern towards the window. The window was awash in golden spring sunshine. The fly swirled the glowing dust motes as it flew.
“Damn,” the President of the United States said with a grimace. He was feelin´ frustrated this morning. He hadn´t heard any good news for a month. He sometimes wondered, secretly, why he ever wanted this job.
Back on the campaign trail, he mostly imagined it would be glamorous and exciting to be President. Everybody kow-towin´ to him and calling him “Mr. President” like he was some kinda god, but it turned out to be mostly, a big, fat, pain in the butt, an onerous responsibility where everyone seemed to want something from…
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