Implosion — USA — Fiction

     The elevator to the top floor of the old Lehman building in New York was out.  The building was all but abandoned so getting to his appointment on the top floor was going to be hard.  Already by the 4th floor he was huffing and puffing, breathless.  He stopped for a minute to rest.  

    Paul K had worked at the NY Times for 30 years and had always been a dutiful soldier for liberal causes such as global warming, wealth distribution, and increasing the minimum wage.  Over and over again he had been an unabashed apologist for first the Obama administration then for the Clinton regime.  As the economy continued to worsen, his investments tanked and his children all went on public assistance since they could not find jobs.  Since congress had failed to stop Obama from violating the Constitution, Hillary had just declared marshal law and abolished it.  Thanks to their purchases, every agency of the federal government was armed to the teeth. There was no one left to stand up.  

     After a short rest, he continued his pace.  Maybe he should not be in such a hurry.  If he paced himself he would not be so out of breath.  The appointment would wait he thought.  

     Inflation which ate into food prices so badly a few years ago had gotten so bad that government checks and welfare were not enough.  Those with the higher minimum wage could not afford to feed their families.  His own grand children did not have enough to eat.  As one of the proponents of American communism he and the NY Times had helped to bring about the greatest poverty this country had ever known.  His children had stopped talking to him because they knew he had helped that happen.  They blamed him for not helping more, but he too had been wiped out, his salary trimmed to almost nil. 

    The millions of people that had been working stopped as they could no longer continue to fund a government that took most of their income only to take care of people that refused to take care of themselves.  Private healthcare had been outlawed and now there were hardly any doctors willing to treat any patients.  With the collapse of the physician supply, the pharma companies had failed since no one could write prescriptions.  One of his grandchildren had died waiting on treatment. 

     Riots and death were everywhere as the Clinton regime would slaughter millions in the name of peace.  He wondered if he should leave a letter saying how wrong he had been.  The American communist was no different than the Chinese communist and Tienanmen Square or Stalin and his relocation plans.  He thought to himself,  we all thought we could do communism correctly and benefit everyone, but really we are no different than the thugs that came before us.  What a legacy.  When it is all said and done it will be the same legacy as Hitler or any other mass murderer.

   He had reached to 58th floor. He was covered is sweat. It was not really the best way to make an impression.  It there was an impression to make then the sweat probably was not a negative.

    He now knew, his own arrogance had helped destroy his family and everyone he knew.  The time had come.  He would have preferred a gun, but could not obtain one.  Only the Homeland Security people were allowed to have those. Had others been able to keep their guns maybe things would not be so bad.   It would have to be a building.  That would not be so bad, but he was terrified of heights.  Ok, the last flight and through the door.  There was no one here, just silence.  Even the air conditioning compressors and fans that used to rumble keeping the whole building air cooled were silent.  No coal, no electricity.  Funny how that worked.

At least it was better than the consequences of supporting the regime and the destruction they had and were causing.  It really did not matter.  In the end, no one would be willing to work and most of America would starve, including the regime.  Maybe something new would come out of it.  No matter, he would not be here to see it.  He was not fond of the idea of starving.  That really left just one choice.  Waling across the flat he looked over the city, most of its energy and light had already died away.  Just one more step.

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