I’m digging through my old flash fiction files again – I just happened to come across this gem. I know exactly why I didn’t post this one out here when I first created it – the first 2 paragraphs had far too many abstract concepts in them, and the flow just wasn’t there.
I’ve touched it up, and I think it hints quite well about how I feel about this year’s Presidential Dog & Pony. The near future will tell if the rest of the world agrees with the thoughts I’ve imagined in Liberty’s head. Until then – enjoy this little bit of Flash.
In Lady Liberty’s Head
I say: the ink used to record human history is no more than fluid prejudice. Like all ‘lofty’ Human notions – Truth is an abstract now honored with empty lip service – a Utopian ideal moldering in a dumpster of forgotten debris.
Thus do the records of wholesale tragedy and individual accomplishment become a collection of fiction slowly crumbling into dust.
I stand, as I have stood for centuries, atop this granite pedestal built on Liberty Island, torch aloft and tablet proudly clasped to my breast – my face turned away from the land I symbolize. There are many who say I attend the eastern waves to welcome new visitors, proudly lighting the way to a new country which will “take in the tired, and take in the poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.”
I now watch across the waves as the rest of the world scorns this land of plenty – overflowing with the degenerates and predators wielding that prejudicial liquid in a final, mad attempt to paint themselves in a more favorable light. An effort to cover the filth-buried truth with a final coating of pretty lies.
The world has seen through this poisoned ink, and comes en-masse to sterilize the festering wound.
I turn my back, so as not to watch the final defeat.