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The Great Wake 75: The Fraidy Cats

 


The big bosses all got together for talks about spooking the people into line.  You know the ones, the boogie club.  Men and women and men that want to be women and women that want to be men.  All of them.  Starve 'em out with supply chain and drout news, not a drop of rain in northeastern Kansas for weeks, woe is the woe, it woes and woes.

Fertilizer is what really scares the smart gullible people, they see the root of the problem, they just fall into the trap.  But the truly smart people don't worry about fertilizer, because there will always be fertilizer, just as there will always be a future.  The skin in this game, especially the skin tone, doesn't matter much, but it stings less if it's thick.  Thin skinners get road rashed, they stay scabbbed and irritable, nervously picking.  Bleeding from the edges.

Light does have a way, truth breaks through.  A hundred years from now, people will remember the chickens, the marching ants, the fraidy cats.  Thou shall not speak, they muttered.  Sources indicated, they gulped.  Hypnotically, they nodded.


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