STAVE ONE: THE OBAMA ADMINISTRATION’S GHOST
Once upon a time—of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve—old Trump sat busy in his White House after the close of Presidential business and his staff abandoning him in favor of the holiday. The Oval Office door flew open with a booming sound, and then slammed shut. Trump heard loud footsteps coming straight towards his office.
“It’s fake news!” said Trump. “I won’t believe it.”
His color changed though, when, without a pause, the loud noise came on through the Oval Office door, and passed into the room before his eyes.
Trump refused to believe though he looked the phantom of the Obama Administration through and through, and saw it standing before him; though he felt the chilling influence of its death-cold eyes; he fought against his senses.
“How now!” said Trump, caustic and cold as ever. “What do you want with me?”
“Much!”—Obama’s voice, no doubt about it.
“Who are you?”
“In life I was your predecessor, the Obama Administration. You don’t believe in me,” observed the Ghost.
“You’re fake news,” said Trump.
“Why do you doubt your senses?”
“Because,” said Trump, “a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the Congress makes them cheats. You may be an unrepentant bit of the justice department, a blot of FBI files, a crumb of left over democracy, a fragment of underdone party loyalty. There’s more of the knave than of the grave about you, whatever you are!”
Trump was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he feel, in his heart, by any means waggish then. The truth is, that he tried to be smart, as a means of distracting his own attention, and keeping down his terror; for the spectre’s voice disturbed the very marrow in his bones.
At this the spirit raised a frightful cry with such a dismal and appalling noise, that Trump held on tight to his chair, to save himself from falling in a swoon. Trump fell upon his knees, and clasped his hands before his face.
“Mercy!” he said. “Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?”
“Man of the worldly mind!” replied the Ghost, “do you believe in me or not?”
“I do,” said Trump. “I must.”
“Hear me!” cried the Ghost. “My time is nearly gone.”
“I will,” said Trump. “But don’t be hard upon me!”
“You will be haunted,” resumed the Ghost, “by Three Spirits.”
Trump’s countenance fell almost as low as Hillary’s on election night. “Is that the chance and hope you mentioned?” Trump demanded, in a faltering voice.
“It is.”
“I—I think I’d rather not,” said Trump.
“Without their visits,” said the Ghost, “you cannot hope to shun the place your path inevitably leads. Expect the first to-morrow, when the clock tolls One.”
“Couldn’t I take ’em all at once, and have it over?” hinted Trump.
“Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!”
Trump tried to say “Fake News!” but stopped at the first word. And being, from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse of the Invisible World, or the dull conversation of the Ghost, or the lateness of the hour, much in need of repose; went straight to bed, and fell asleep upon the instant.
To be continued...
Mary wasn’t your ordinary unmarried pregnant teenager. This kid had moxie and connections in extremely high places.
In Fulfillment, the secret concerning the baby in Mary’s womb attracts evil spirits, a woman-hating ancient Israeli monster named Lilith, a king, soldiers and a would-be lover all bent on destroying her. Mary’s journey, while steeped with betrayal and the foul stench of the ultimate demon, is a setup for an even bigger story. She discovers a lost love found, the promise of a newborn king, and a wealth of new friends from a dwarf with the heart of a warrior to the young mother who loses her husband and children in a bloody massacre. Laugh, cry and gain new insights into the Christmas story as you read Fulfillment.
“The dragon stood in front of the woman who was about to give birth so that he might devour her child the moment it was born.”
Revelation 12:4b
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