resistance

Fifty Shades of Gray

Fandango14 Comments

“Your undershirts are getting a bit dingy,” my wife said.

“So what?” I asked. “They’re undershirts, for crissake. I wear them under my shirts. Nobody sees them.”

“I see them every time I do a wash and they’re really gray,” my wife said. “And for your information, people can see your undershirt collars when you’re wearing button-front sport shirts. Your collars are dingy gray.”

“Whatever,” I said. “I don’t need to spend the money on new undershirts. And nobody is going to be grossed out from a peekaboo view of dingy undershirt collars.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” my wife said, “so I bought you some new undershirts and I want you to see something.” She grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom, where she had one of my old undershirts laid out next to one of the new ones she just bought.Undershirts“Okay, I see what you mean,” I said, knowing that further resistance was futile.

The Resistance

Fandango8 Comments

0492E114-ED86-4A73-91AA-63D39C3B0AFCJason woke up in a cold sweat. He sat up in bed and started to shake, which set off the alarm. A nurse came running into his room and said, “You’re awake! Are you okay?”

“I think so,” he said. I was having some weird visions. “I’m sure it was all a dream. Or a more like a nightmare, actually.”

“A nightmare?” she said. “Do you know where you are?”

Jason looked around, saw the medical equipment and apparatus around the room that he was connected to. Panic started to set in. “What’s going on? Where the fuck am I?”

“You’re in a military hospital, Lieutenant Silver. “You’ve been in a coma for the past six months.”

“What?” Jason said, struggling to comprehend what he had just been told. “How did I get here? What happened to me?”

“Let me go get the doctor,” she said, and left the room.

A moment later, a man walked into the room. “Lieutenant Silver, I’m Doctor Jackson. As the nurse mentioned, you have been here for six months. You were brought to this facility unconscious and close to death. Is was touch and go for hours, but we were eventually able to stabilize you. You never regained consciousness. Until just a few moments ago.”

“What happened to me?” Jason asked. “I have no recollection at all.”

“That’s not unusual,” the doctor said,” given what you went through.”

“Tell me!” Jason insisted.

“In 2022, the president died and his son, who assumed the position of vice president in 2020, filled out the remainder of his father’s term. But in 2024, when he lost his re-election bid, he refused to step down and support a peaceful transition of power to the winner,” the doctor explained. “That triggered a military coup in which the young president was killed, which set off a civil war. The dead president’s loyalists took arms in an attempt to regain power for the family and to install his sister as the new leader in order to continue the dynasty.

“Jesus,” Jason said.

“You were a member of the resistance, but I’m afraid their efforts failed and the resistance came up empty handed.”

“Oh my God,” Jason said. “I don’t remember any of that. So how did I get here?”

“You were fighting against the deceased president’s daughter,” the doctor said, “when your squad got overtaken by an armored division of the military loyal to the regime. You were wounded and the rest of your squad bailed on you, thinking you were dead. You were found and brought here.”

“Wow,” Jason said. “So it wasn’t all just a bad dream, after all. What happens now?”

“Well, now that you’ve regained consciousness, Lieutenant,” the doctor said, “by order of her royal highness, Queen Ivanka, you are to be executed as a traitor to the regime.”

Written for Teresa’s Story Starter Challenge where the story starter is “I’m sure it was all a dream.” And for these daily prompts: Swimmer (hour), Word of the Day Challenge (empty), Your Daily Word Prompt (armor), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (division), and Ragtag Daily Prompt (bail).

To Protect and Preseve

Fandango8 Comments

A85C1DDA-EFC3-46BB-A586-3AA3D9C92D42Gregg heard the sound of the helicopter flying overhead. He looked up and saw hundreds of pieces of paper floating down from the whirlybird. He reached out and picked one of the fluttering leaflets out of the air before it came to rest on the ground.

After reading it, he dropped the leaflet and stood there almost petrified. Whatever hope anyone had for a peaceful transfer of power was surely lost with this news. Carrying an armful of leaflets, Gregg ran back to the small rural community. He needed to make sure the townsfolk knew what was about to happen. He was sure that everyone in town shared the sentiment expressed in the leaflets.

After all, this was coal country and they had voted overwhelmingly for the president, who had promised to restore their jobs and to bring back prosperity to their ghost towns.

But his promises went unfulfilled and his once-faithful supporters felt betrayed. The coal mines never reopened and the towns around them and the men who worked them continued to suffer. They had long ago burned their MAGA hats and dropped their naïve support for the lying bastard who gave them hope but only delivered more misery.

The leaflets from the resistance movement warned the townsfolk that, despite losing the 2020 election “bigly,” the president still refused to recognize the results, calling the election rigged and claiming that the results were illegitimate because of the votes of illegal immigrants who had flooded through the porous southern border due to Democrats not funding his wall.

Instead, he called upon his MAGA-faithful in the red states to take up arms against the “liberal elitists” and to fight to the death to preserve his power.

The leaflets warned the townsfolk that the MAGA militia was heading their way and to be prepared to fight them in the battle to protect our constitution and to preserve our democracy.

This little glimpse into America’s future uses the following daily prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (leaflet), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (petrified), Word of the Day Challenge (hope), and Your Daily Word Prompt (sentiment).